The Killing Joke

Superman killing an alternate Zod and company with Kryptonite. 

For those "adults" like myself who enjoy reading comic books, we've fought against the long held stigma that comics, especially superhero comics, are nothing more than kid's entertainment.  There's no doubt that often the first book that young children read after pop up books are usually comic books.  The presence of thrilling action pictures is obviously more thrilling to a kid than just words on a page.  Even so, the comic book industry has been passionately fighting the "just for kids" label for years, especially after the comics code authority, a self censoring organization that made sure comics weren't too violent or obscene, was liberalized.  Like all other popular entertainment in recent decades, comics have come of age, perhaps most notably in the works of creator owned companies such as Image and Dark Horse.  When it comes to the big two though, DC and Marvel, their flagship characters have only been allowed to mature and change as much as the companies allow.  Characters like Superman, Batman and Spiderman have been allowed to grow up a bit, but in no way that really violates their essentially wholesome marketability.  Even Batman, the edgiest of these big three, still remains a morally sure crime fighter who takes it to criminals hard but never crosses the line and takes a life. The refusal of these classic characters to ever take a life is one factor which has kept them acceptable to the mainstream community.  Superman more than anyone is held up as a shining beacon of absolute goodness and clean cut morality; he's still seen as the big blue boy-scout.  His moral purity is one of the factors that stuck him in the "land of the bland" in the eighties and nineties when darker, flawed characters with ambiguous morality began dominating comics. 
Many of these edgier characters, like Wolverine and The Punisher, had no problem taking lives when the situation called for it.  These tougher characters reflected the cynicism and uncertainty of the times and struck a chord with readers who could relate to deeply conflicted and consequently more human anti-heroes.  Superman and Batman's refusal to kill even the most psychotic and homicidal of their enemies was initially a by-product of the comics code authority established in the fifties, which banned all heroes from killing and excessive violence.  This made sense given that in the fifties and sixties, comics were almost exclusively enjoyed by kids and some illiterate adults.  The industry was trying to clean up their image in the wake of Fredrich Wertham's assault on comics as having a corrupting effect on youth.  Like everything else in the fifties, comics came to depict wholesome scenes of American life and uphold established values, no matter how false they might've been.  
As with television and film, comics too have experienced a liberation, but heroes like Superman and Batman still maintain their "no-kill" policies.  While I think this is a noble thing to uphold, as an "adult" reader of comics, or at least a man-boy reader of comics, I often think that the rigidity of this rule makes no sense.  Comic books are not only just for kids anymore, they're not mostly for kids these days.  Books like Watchmen and Sandman, just to name a few, tackled mature, complex issues that couldn't even have been acknowledged a few years prior.  In recent years, comic books have begun injecting much more realism and grittiness into their worlds, with arguably mixed results.  Comics, especially superhero comics, are still largely based in fantasy and should never lose that quality of imagination and wonder, but it's refreshing to see some of these fantastic concepts being grounded in a world that seems similar to our own. 
It's no secret that our world is sometimes faced with dangers that threaten many lives.   The world seems more like a comic book than ever before.  No longer are twin skyscrapers plummeting to the ground limited to the machinations of comic book villains.  Threats like these are part of our daily existence and our real life superheroes, the cops, firefighters and military personnel that we depend on must sometimes use deadly force to neutralize these deadly threats.  We don't think less of the cop who's forced to shoot and kill a gunman who opens fire on innocent people.  We didn't think any less of the cops who shot and killed the older of the two brothers who committed the Boston Marathon bombing, so why should we think less of imaginary heroes like Superman and Batman.  Just because they're fictional, doesn't mean they should be flawless.  I'm not saying that these characters should just kill when they feel like it the way Rorschach does in Watchmen, although ironically, Rorschach seems to be most people's favorite Watchmen character.  I think in our modern world, what makes Superman a hero is his ability to do the hard thing no one else is willing to do for the greater good.  Unlike Wolverine or Punisher, the times that Superman was forced to kill, and there've been a few in the comics, he's haunted by his decision.   In an interview with Todd McFarlane, creator of Spawn, he mentions that he never really got into Batman because it made no sense to him why he didn't just kill The Joker and have done with it.  The common fan-boy response is that Batman refuses to sink to Joker's level, but he's still got a point.  Villains like the Joker never change their ways and by simply throwing them back into Arkham, you could argue that Batman has some indirect responsibility for all the lives Joker takes the next time he inevitably breaks out or is released, having conned them into believing he's cured.  In the comic book world, writers have to find ways to bring great villains like Joker back for seconds and thirds, but the logic just isn't there.
In Superman's case it's even worse, because his super-powered villains are always sure to escape imprisonment and wreck havoc again, but on an even larger scale.   
Of course, this brings me to Man of Steel and the neck snap heard round the world.  I think people made way too much of what Superman did.  Like Joker, Zod is a villain who refuses to give up.  Being a warrior bred for combat, he's determined to fight to the death to achieve his goal, which happens to be worldwide genocide.  Unlike the Joker however, Zod has Superman's godlike powers and not a shred of his morality.  No prison can hold him, there's no kryptonite to subdue him and Supes can't just open up another black-hole and toss him in, but even if he did, who's to say that isn't a death sentence.  Given the choice between eternal living death in a phantom dimension and having my neck snapped, I'd choose neck snap and I know Zod would as well.  Now, I'm in no way saying Superman should start snapping necks if his enemies surrender or even if he gets the upper hand in battle.  Even a badass like Wolverine usually won't kill an adversary if they surrender to him.  All I'm saying is that in the midst of battle when innocent lives are at stake and a hero has no choice, at least none that won't cause greater death, but to kill a monster hell bent on wiping out every last human, then killing seems justified.  Nobody bats an eye when Wolverine shish-kebabs scores of men in the heat of battle, and although Superman is supposed to be much more pure of heart, you can't say that Wolverine doesn't have a heart or a conscience as well.   The guilt Superman carries even for killing monsters like Zod just proves that he's still got a conscience better than just about anyone.  If comic book fans hope to disprove the notion that comics are just kid's entertainment, they should stop clinging so tightly to inflexible and often illogical concepts designed to keep comics just for kids.  Superhero comics should never lose the magic and essential "goodness" that speaks to the kid in all of us, but despite our desire to see it that way, the world isn't simply black and white and knowing what's truly right is often hard to know.   There should be room in these comics for the characters to grow and take on real dimension and depth for fans who want to imagine what might happen if these heroes existed in the world as we know it.  Although morality isn't simply black and white, we can still hope that heroes, whether fictional or real, will always do what they think is right for the greater good, even if it means making the choice that no one else can make.                    

Since I found Serenity...

The crew of the Firefly ship Serenity which was grounded far too early.   

 I should probably be tarred and feathered for this, but up until a few weeks ago I couldn't say that I'd seen even one episode of Joss Whedon's tragically short lived show Firefly.  Then I watched all 14 episodes and the film Serenity and now I regret not watching it years ago.  I'd always heard from friends that it was a brilliant and flawless show which was cut down in it's infancy by the cold cunts at FOX.  The show's been referenced countless times on The Big Bang Theory, marathoned on stations like the Science Channel and continues to captivate legions of devoted "Brown-coats" ten years later.  Not bad for a show that didn't even last a full season.  I made a few earlier attempts to get into the show, but each time I was really drunk and came out not remembering much.  This time however I made sure to pay attention and I'm so glad I did.  I know there's not much I can say about Firefly that hasn't already been echoed by fans a thousand times, but I'm gonna pretend that nobody else knows about the show and just pretend I discovered it on my own. 

First off, the show is a incredibly unique blend of futuristic Sci-fi and old west sensibility.  It takes place 500 years in the future, after earth's resources were depleted and humans were forced to flee to a new solar system replete with dozens of planets and hundreds of moons.  After terraforming these planets and making them inhabitable, the central ones came under the control of the Alliance, a federal government created when earth's last superpowers, China and America, merged their cultures and governments.  While these central planets thrived under the authority of the Alliance, most of the outer rim planets refused Alliance control and formed a rebellion which was ultimately crushed by the Alliance.  Therefore, these outer rim planets are cut off from new technology and are primitive, backwoods places reminiscent of old western mining towns. 
Captain Malcolm Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) and his first mate Zoe (Gina Torres) fought in the war against the Alliance and after being defeated at the battle of Serenity Valley, became smugglers aboard a firefly class ship they called "Serenity", taking whatever work they can get while ducking the Alliance.  The rest of the ship's crew are a lovable bunch of misfits who even in the first episode have a natural chemistry and interplay.  If I didn't love Firefly from the start of the first episode, I definitely fell in love the first time I saw Kaylee Frye (Jewel Staite), the ship's adorable engineer.  Then there's Hoban "Wash" Washburn, Serenity's pilot and Zoe's husband, who provides much of the comic relief along with Jayne Cobb (Adam Baldwin), a mercenary who loves his gun Vera and is handy in a fight.  I can't forget about Inara (Morena Baccarin) the ship's beautiful and sophisticated companion (oh yea, prostitution's legal in this awesome future) as well as Derrial Booke (Ron Glass), a Shepard who joins the crew.  Finally there's Dr. Simon Tam (Sean Maher), who smuggles his sister River (Summer Glau) on board in a cargo crate after he breaks her out of an Alliance facility, making them fugitives. 
The reason I mention each character is because they all feel fleshed out and distinct and the way they interact with each other is immensely compelling and often humorous.  That being said, Firefly is not a comedy, it's a drama with comedic moments.  Although set so far in the future, the show doesn't fall into the cliché trappings of sleek and shiny futuristic technology; on the contrary, because the outer rim planets resisted Alliance control, they are without luxuries.  These environments have a rugged and rustic feel that adds tremendous realism.  The common folk who inhabit these worlds have to rely on old weapons and equipment, even using horses and carts alongside ships.  Mal and his crew use antique firearms in combat and the inside of the ship looks rusted and dirty, which makes everything feel all the more organic.   This blend of space travel and western sensibility might've seemed goofy in someone else's hands, but in Whedon's we get a world that seems convincing in all it's delightful quirks.  Among these are the character's tendencies to blurt out Mandarin curses due to the Chinese-American Culture blend.  They're also fond of the word "Goram" which is slang for Goddamn.  Little quirks like this make the show all the more enjoyable.  The show seamlessly blends both western and Asian cultural styles and the result is sweet. 
I can truly concur with every fan when I say the show is note-perfect, even down to the instantly memorable cowboy inspired theme song and music, which uses fiddles to evoke a sound reminiscent of the American West with Asian overtones.  Again, Firefly makes this odd mixture work.  Another interesting distinction is the lack of aliens; the crew only deal with other humans in the new solar system, with the exception of Reavers, vicious animalistic beings of unknown origin who dwell on the outer edges of space and raid ships, raping and murdering everyone in sight and displaying their victims corpses on their ships.  In the series, Reavers are mentioned a few times but not actually seen until the Serenity film, in which we learn that the secret of their origin has to do with the Alliance.  The lack of aliens takes nothing away from the show and in fact adds to the realism given that as far as we know, we are alone in the universe.  You could say that Cpt. Mal Reynolds is like Han Solo; both are smugglers with a badass, suave attitude but I think Mal's even cooler.  He's a man of action when he needs to be and takes care of his crew, but he also has a natural charisma and a good heart under a gruff exterior that makes him very likeable.  The rest of the crew is likable in their own way, even Simon although he pissed me off a few times when Kaylee would flirt with him and he'd find a way to cock block himself.  The mystery surrounding his sister River, a child prodigy with remarkable mental capabilities becomes a dominant thread throughout the series as Simon and the crew cope with the traumatic effects of the Alliance's experiments to turn her into a human weapon.  River's a fascinating and mysterious character whose intentions remain unknown to the crew and often put them in danger due to her and Simon's fugitive status. 
The show is filled with plenty of action, from old west style shoot outs to sweet bar brawls, all greatly enjoyed by Jayne and the crew finds themselves in plenty of dangerous situations given that they're willing to take almost any job, regardless of the legality.  Interspersed with the action are plenty of hilarious moments which flow naturally from the great dialogue and characters.  Everyone has their chance to provide some humor along with some insight and depth.  Even a character like Jayne, who at first seems like a heartless brute is shown to have a conscience.  In a very short amount of time, Firefly gave us characters who had depth and complexity, even Shepard Booke, who the show hint's at having a past tie to the Alliance.  All these elements and many more yet to be seen until I've watched it again, make Firefly's cancellation all the more sad.  Given how rich and compelling it was from the get go, we can only imagine where they could've taken it.  The show dared to be radically unique and in your face, even racy at times and gave us a lovable band of miscreants who "aimed to misbehave" and find freedom in the black against a frighteningly realistic government demanding total control and compliance.              

Superman Returns...and then leaves again.

Superman sure loves hovering above the earth all Christ like. 

This is a post I've been meaning to write for a while and with the hotly anticipated release of Man of Steel on DVD about a week ago (and yes I bought it the first day), there seems no better time for me to share my thoughts on why Superman Returns just didn't work as a Superman film, in my opinion that is.  I was seventeen when it came out in 2006 and couldn't have been more jazzed to see Supes return to the big screen considering I'd never gotten to see any of the Chris Reeve films at the cinema.  It had been more than twenty years since he soared in theaters and the general feeling was that he was long overdue to return, especially given that Batman Begins had come out a year earlier and revitalized the Batman film saga.  I saw it first with my dad, also a big Superman fan, and came out simply thrilled that Superman was back.  I saw it at least 4 more times with friends and family, extolling it as a terrific film.  As time went on however, and the film's initial glow began to wear off, I began to feel disappointment creeping in as I re-examined what I'd seen.  At first I couldn't quite articulate what I was feeling, all I knew was that something just didn't feel right.  Now years later, I can say resolutely that as much as I tried to love Superman Returns, the film simply doesn't work for me.
I think one of the main issues right out of the gate was trying to pick up where Superman II left off all those years ago.  Despite feeling a little dated now, the first two Superman films were epic, game changing blockbusters which set the tone for virtually every superhero film that followed.  The first established the film formula for the superhero origin and the second cranked up the intensity by having him battle three fellow Kryptonians.  Ignoring 3&4, which did for Superman what Batman Forever and especially Batman and Robin did for Bats, those first two were pretty great.  Having said that, Singer should've honored that storyline by just leaving it alone and instead retold Superman's origins like Nolan did in Begins.  Instead he picked up where things left off and the result is a film that feels out of place.  Of course the film has modern elements but the tone still feels stuck in the time period of the original films.  What made Donner's original so thrilling and captivating was that the film's tone and environment was contemporary to that time and updating Superman with a new look and state of the art special effects made it look and feel so real and grounded, even though it's still fantasy.  Superman Returns wanted to ground it's Supes in some realism too, but was unable to do this because it clings to facets of the Donner films that no longer seem fresh and relevant or easy to accept these days.   
One of the biggest issues is Lois's continued inability to figure out the Clark is Superman.  I know that at the end of Superman II, Clark erased her memory of knowing his secret with an "amnesia kiss" to spare her pain and that's still the case in this film, but since Lois is still deeply pinning for Superman, you'd think she'd finally be able to recognize him behind those glasses and figure it out like she did before.  In the late seventies, her not knowing was easier to accept as a playful suspension of disbelief, but these days, especially in these films, it's harder to swallow.  If we're to believe Lois is a Pulitzer Prize winning investigative journalist, she should be able to put it together, as should everyone else at the Planet considering that both Clark and Superman vanished for five years and show up on the same day.  As Gob Bluth would say, "Come On!"  Lois seems to be merely a caricature in this film and it's hard to understand what Superman would've seen in her.  Superman's five year disappearing act is another bothersome point given that he leaves earth and travels to where Krypton was under some notion that it might still be there.  The writers needed some excuse to get him to leave so he'd have to work to regain earth's trust, but his believing that Krypton might still be intact makes no sense considering everything he's been through in the past.  Not only did he learn all about Krypton's demise from the hologram of Jor-El in the fortress but he's come up against actual radioactive pieces of his home planet.  Another issue is that Superman would never leave earth unguarded for that long given that he feels guilty for every person he's unable to save, even when he saves thousands.  I feel that his struggle to regain earth's trust after his cosmic "vacation" was supposed to be an inner conflict, but as soon as he catches Lois' plane and lands it in a baseball stadium, the world unanimously welcomes him back.  Only Lois and of course Lex Luthor are cheesed off about his return, although for different reasons. 
Kevin Spacey is a fantastic actor and he did a good job bringing some darkness and edge to Luthor, at least compared to Hackman, but he was stuck playing a version of Hackman's real estate obsessed Lex, which simply isn't threatening or sinister these days, if it ever was at all.  Spacey along with much of the cast, doesn't have much to work with in the film; his character is merely a thin shade of how diabolically badass Lex is in the comics or on Smallville.  His Lex is simply itching for revenge against Supes and follows the same plot he unleashed in Superman The Movie, only this time using crystals he steals from the fortress, which for some reason grow like chia-pet crystals when put in water.  You'd think Lex would be onto a new scheme by now, but he's already in re-runs.  What bothers me about the film is how it tries to be a continuation of the original but ends up being more a pseudo-homage to the first.  Many of the situations and lines of dialogue are virtually the same and recall the first film.  I think the film's most thrilling scene comes about a half hour in when he stops Lois's plane from crashing; after that the film never reaches the same level of intensity.  That doesn't mean there aren't some cool scenes, such as when he stops a bullet with his eyeball.  The rest of the film is kind of by the book as we see Superman pinning for Lois, who's married to Cyclops from X-men and has a son named Jason.  Supes spends a lot of time mopping around and even follows Lois to her house and X-rays her with her husband and son like a super-stalker.  I didn't have a problem with Brandon Routh as Supes; he's got the Chris Reeve look and mannerisms of bumbling Clark, but again he didn't have the opportunity to make it his own, it feels like he's simply emulating Reeve but adding in the stalker parts. 
One of my biggest sore spots is the revelation that Jason is Superman's kid.  This is confirmed when Lois is taken hostage by Lex's goons aboard his yacht and the 5 year old manages to shove a grand piano at a thug who's beating on Lois.  I didn't like this as soon as I saw it, but I still tried to justify it to myself.  The problem is that the film took a giant leap with something that hasn't even really been explored in comics while playing it safe with everything else.  Fans wanted to see a film about Superman's return, not Superman and son.  Who even knows if Superman's DNA is compatible with human DNA.  For more on this, watch Jason Lee's Superman coital discussion in Kevin Smith's Mallrats, it's hilarious.  It's as if the writers wanted to throw something in for shock value in a film that's otherwise pretty predictable.  Luthor manages to create a landmass made of Kryptonite which rises from the Atlantic and creates an earthquake in Metropolis.  Superman saves the day like he did in the original film, although this time he catches the Daily Planet globe as it hurdles towards Perry White in a pretty cool scene.  Supes then confronts Lex on his Kryptonite island and after being weakened, Lex stabs him with a shank of Kryptonite and breaks it off in his side, after which he falls into the ocean.  Lois, in Cyclopes' sea plane, rescues him and he ends up rocketing down under the sea floor and lifting the whole landmass out of the water and into space.
I have a few problems with this.  First off, the entire landmass is made of Kryptonite and though he put a tons of rock between him and it, the sheer amount of radiation should affect him, not to mention the fact that after Lois pulled out the shank, he still had a little shard in him and that's all it take to rob him off his powers.  He shouldn't have been able to lift that thing, but he does and pushes it into space before blacking out and plummeting back to earth.  I hope he pushed it out far enough, otherwise I fear it to will fall back to earth and take out Metropolis.  Anyway, he's brought to the hospital in an unconscious state and the audience is tricked into believing he'd dead for a moment, but of course that's not the case.  Really long story short, while comatose Lois tells him Jason's his son and when he wakes up he flies to her house and gives the sleeping boy essentially the same spiel that Jor-El gave him about the son becoming the father, implying that Supes will watch over the boy from a distance. 
He then talks to Lois outside, telling her he's always around, minus the 5 years he wasn't and flies over earth just like in the Chris Reeve films.  Ironically, Returns' budget was almost as much as Man of Steel's but there isn't a single Super punch in the film and not much action aside from flying and catching things.  This makes sense given that Luthor is the villain, it's just an interesting side note.  As mentioned, it's not as though the film has no positive attributes, but even when I really tried to love it, it's not the Superman film I was dying to see.  The film seems to have trouble figuring out what it wants to be; it wants to be grounded and serious but there are too many aspects that just don't work believably.  It wants to show that Lois and Superman have this undeniable connection and are destined to be together but she still can't figure out he's Clark and it wants to continue the story in the past films but ends up being a pseudo-homage to the first.  Luckily I can now say I've seen a new Superman film that brought to life what I've been dying to see for years and also made Superman fresh and relevant again, adding depth and reality to the character.  All I'll say is thank the gods for Zack Snyder and Chris Nolan for returning the Man of Steel to his place as the granddaddy of all Superheroes.                              

Beware the Court of Owls

Batman goes face to face with the creepy members of The Court of Owls. 

Everyone knows Gotham City is Batman's city.  In many ways, it's the city that helped create Batman all those years ago when young Bruce Wayne's parents were gunned down before his eyes in one of the city's dark alleyways.  Years later, when Bruce returned to Gotham and unleashed his alter ego Batman, it was to reclaim the city from the clutches of Gotham's criminal underbelly.  Bruce has always thought he knew the city down to the bone, but in Scott Snyder's Court of Owls series, he discovers that he doesn't know the city as well as he thought.  There are sinister secrets lurking behind the façade of the city, dark secrets which stretch back over a hundred years and intertwine with Bruce's own family history.  A mysterious organization known as The Court of Owls is out to prove to Batman and Bruce Wayne that the city belongs to them. 
I'm long overdue for writing about the spectacular Court of Owls storyline, but I figured better late than never.  As part of the New 52, Snyder puts a fresh spin on this timeless character, maintaining the essential traits that drive the man while adding some much needed depth.  At it's core, this story is about Bruce slowly learning that the Gotham he thought he knew so well might not really exist.  When a John Doe is found peppered with throwing knives, all which bear the symbol of an owl, it seems to be the calling card of The Court of Owls, a shadowy group mythologized in an old nursery rhyme.  The group was thought to be simply an urban legend, but the evidence seems to indicate that they might be real.  Only Batman remains skeptical.  When he discovers a message left by the john doe warning that Bruce Wayne will die, he goes about getting to the bottom of the mystery.  Not long after, Bruce is attacked at Wayne Tower by a masked assassin, called The Talon, who states that the Court has sentenced Bruce to die.  In the battle, Bruce gets kicked through a window of Wayne Tower and plummets to the street along with his assassin.  Luckily, he's able to grab onto one of the building's many gargoyles, and he watches his would be assassin slam into a car below.  Even this attack is not enough to convince him of the Court's existence and when Dick Grayson a.k.a. Nightwing asks why he doesn't believe it's them, Bruce tells him how he investigated the Court's existence when he was a kid and found nothing.   
I enjoyed how Snyder finds a way to tie the Court into the murder of Bruce's parents.  After their death, young Bruce in his sorrow became convinced their death wasn't random and started to piece together clues that seemed to point to the Court of Owls.  Believing the Court to be made up of Gotham's most influential who perhaps felt threatened by Thomas and Martha Wayne, Bruce set out to uncover the Court and the truth.  He tells how he found an abandoned social club with a owl for a crest and found his way into a room in the upper tower, certain he'd find their secret meeting place, but instead found just a dusty, empty room.  After that, Bruce came to the conclusion that the Court didn't exist.  Despite his skepticism, Bruce continues obsessively digging and discovers that his great-great grandfather, Alan Wayne was obsessed with Owls and believed they were in his house before he was found dead in Gotham's sewers.  Bruce investigates all buildings funded by the Wayne trust and in each finds a secret floor between the 12th and 14th full of weapons and trinkets of the Court going back to the late 1800's.  His investigation leads him into the sewer where Alan Wayne's body was retrieved years earlier and it's there that he's again attacked by the Talon, who managed to survive the fall (I'll explain that in a bit), and ends up in a dizzying maze called the labyrinth with members of the Court watching his every move.  Here, a wounded Batman must work his way through a maze of rooms, all while being chased by The Talon and seeing photos of Gotham citizens who vanished without a trace, including Alan Wayne.  Bruce, in a state of delirium from drinking drugged water, sees his dead parents and manages to fight through his terrifying visions.  In the process, he learns just how far reaching the Court's influence goes, secretly pulling the strings behind Gotham for centuries.  On the verge of death, the members of the Court order The Talon to finish off Batman but Bruce musters his last ounce of strength and finally defeats The Talon in badass style, after which he escapes back into the sewer while the Court disposes of the Talon's defeated and therefore unworthy body.   
Snyder builds the story up in an exciting way, unfolding crucial revelations little by little.  For instance, early on we learn that DNA found on the John Doe matches Dick Grayson and he explains that the dead man approached him weeks earlier, vaguely warning him about the Court and grabbed tightly onto his arm, explaining how his DNA got under the man's nails.  Towards the end of Vol. 1 when Bruce manages to make it back to the Cave after escaping the labyrinth, he discovers that Alfred found The Talon's discarded body and Bruce begins to run tests on it.  It's revealed that the body contains large amounts of electrum, a substance capable of re-animating dead tissue, which seeped into his cells over many years from a deposit on his back tooth bearing the Court's symbol.  This allowed The Talon and anyone else specially prepared by the Court in this way, to cheat death again and again.  Only by keeping the body cold as Bruce does can it be kept in a comatose state.  Bruce then reveals to Dick that this Talon is Dick's great-grandfather and when Dick gets angry at this news, Bruce strikes him across the face, knocking out a deposit on his back tooth like the Talon's.  Turns out the Court was preparing Dick to be among the next generation of assassins after scoping him out years earlier when he was a circus acrobat.  While this is being explained, we see the Court members preparing a new Talon to lead a full out assault and take back the city of Gotham in an epic ending to Volume 1.   
The Court of Owls is a gripping read from start to finish and a immensely satisfying new chapter for The Dark Knight.  Snyder gets into Bruce's thought process in an interesting way as it swings between the contemplative, informative and sometimes the humorous.  His personality doesn't feel the least bit one dimensional, but he's still the deeply driven and focused detective.  What I like about his adversary here is that it's not simply one guy but rather an entire clandestine organization lurking in the shadows of Gotham.  Like the Illuminati, the Court seems to have its Talons in everything, challenging Batman's authority in the city.  The art by Greg Capullo perfectly suits the tone of the story: dirty and gritty in some places, clean and clear in others.  The story is after all a gritty mystery story but there's also plenty of action.  At times, the action explodes out of the panels.  During the scenes in the labyrinth, panels are turned sideways and even upside down as if to mirror Batman's disorientation.  The story continues in Vol.2, The City of Owls, in which Bruce faces off against a horde of assassins who attack Wayne Manor and uncovers deeper, darker secrets about his family's ties to the Court.  Court of Owls is an engrossing mystery and a perfect Batman story for old time fans and first time readers that only gets better as it steams along.                        

Wolverine: Big In Japan

Wolverine: Clint Eastwood with Claws from the first issue's classic cover. 

I don't think there's any debate that Wolverine is the most popular and recognized member of the gang of mutants known as the X-men.  Since his addition to the team in 1974, Wolverine a.k.a Logan has rocketed to worldwide popularity, mostly due to his incredibly handy Adamantium claws and gruff, dirty harry demeanor.  At a time when most superheroes, particularly those in the DC Universe, were essentially clean cut, morally clear characters, Wolverine was one of comics first anti-heroes, a feral man-beast unafraid to take it the villains as brutally as they took it to him...if not more so.  Wolverine is a character locked in perpetual war with himself, torn between man and animal and his famously clouded origin and slightly sordid past make him more of a rogue warrior than a traditional superhero.  As many people know, Wolverine's mutation is his ability to heal from nearly any wound or condition, one which came in handy when he volunteered for a highly dangerous operation in which the indestructible metal Adamantium was grafted to his entire skeleton, complete with six razor sharp claws which extend from his hands at a moments notice.  This, in addition to his healing ability, makes Wolverine virtually indestructible and so far immortal; he's been around since the mid 1800's.   
I recently got around to reading the 1987 four issue mini-series Wolverine, written by X-men legend Chris Claremont and illustrated by another legend, Frank Miller.  I was told by a friend that the recent Wolverine film was based on this story, although after seeing the film, I think I prefer the mini-series.  The book's visual style alone was enough to get me hooked.  Just the cover of the first issue as seen above, showing Wolverine with his gleaming claws extended and a mischievous smile on his face, daring the viewer to bring it on, is instantly iconic.  The story follows a solo Wolverine to Japan where he hopes to reunite with the love of his life, a woman named Mariko, only to find out she's been forced into an arranged marriage to an abusive man out of obligation to her father, a powerful crime-lord.  Wolverine is less than pleased with this and hopes to convince Mariko to leave her husband.  Although she still loves Logan, Mariko states that she is duty bound to her father, who upon discovering that Logan has arrived, challenges him to a sword fight.  Even with his  healing ability and the fact that they fight with wooden practice swords, Wolverine is defeated by the master swordsman and left for dead in a Tokyo alley. 
Upon recovering, he meets a female assassin named Yukio who helps him fight off The Hand, a group of assassins working for Mariko's father.  Turns out that Yukio was hired by Mariko's father, Lord Shingen to gain Wolverine's sympathies and deceive him into helping her kill Shingen's rival for control of Japan's criminal underworld.  Instead, Yukio falls in love with Logan and tries many times to seduce him even though he still yearns for Mariko.  Throughout the series, Logan is forced to fight and kill legions of trained assassins, even as he attempts to prove he's more man than beast.  As he says in the book's opening line, "I'm the best there is at what I do, but what I do isn't very nice."  Once Logan finds out Mariko's father sent the Hand to kill him, he sets out to take down his entire operation and rescue Mariko from a terrible marriage.  Before that though, there's a great interlude where Logan, believing he can't get Mariko back, embarks on a lost weekend of sorts with Yukio, fighting in underground sumo matches and binge drinking.  I can't imagine how much he'd have to drink to get good and drunk.   
A great aspect of the book is the sheer amount of Logan's inner dialogue.  These monologues let the reader get into his head and see his thought process, which is usually split between the tactical, strategic side which helps him be the best at what he does and the thoughtful side, deeply contemplating his decisions and trying to decide what kind of being he really is, animal or man or a bit or both.  Of course, outwardly Logan retains his classic bad-ass attitude when confronted by those who want to take him out.  In combat he lets loose, slicing through his enemies like they were made of tissue paper.  Miller's illustrations and the coloring is another great highlight, especially in the panels showing Tokyo as a neon flooded city with a contrast of light and shadow that gives the story an almost neon-noir feel.  The garish, day-glow colors jump out from every panel and are reminiscent of the neon color pallet of that other classic, Watchmen.  There's a fluidity of motion in the action scenes, emphasizing Wolverine's physical prowess in combat.  In many ways Wolverine is really a Ronin, a master-less samurai who fights with claws rather than a katana. 
Ultimately, after crippling Shingen's organization and taking out the hand, Wolverine with the help of Yukio, confronts Shingen once again and they battle to the death over three beautiful, wordless pages until Wolverine delivers a killing stroke.  For an instant Logan worries that Mariko might feel obliged to try and kill him to honor her father, but luckily Mariko, whose husband is slain by Yukio right before the battle, tells Logan that she would have slain her father herself for the shame he brought to his family and clan.  Mariko then presents Logan with her father's 800 year old sword, explaining that he's worthy of the honor.  Strangely enough for a Wolverine story, the book ends with Logan explaining how he stayed in the mountains with Mariko in order to heal until he finally writes the other X-men, sending them an invitation to his and Mariko's wedding and telling them to bring beer.  At first this happy ending surprised me since most of Logan's relationships end in tragedy, but it was nice to see the guy happy, trying to fulfill his decision earlier in the book to put aside his savage nature and strive to simply be a man...albeit one who still has indestructible claws.                               

The Dark Knight Rises: Broken But Not Beaten

The starting lineup in The Dark Knight Rises: Catwoman, Batman, and Bane. 

After finally getting around to Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, I now arrive at the monumental final chapter in that epic trilogy: The Dark Knight Rises.  In the wake of the massive phenomenon that was The Dark Knight, the task of delivering not only a worthy follow-up but also a worthy conclusion to an unprecedented trilogy must have felt as impossible as traveling to the moon in a Zeppelin.  Still, Chris Nolan and crew undertook the herculean challenge in order to bring Bruce's troubled heroic journey to a satisfying close.  They had to have known that whatever they turned out would not be spared unfair comparisons to The Dark Knight, a film that still casts a huge shadow on every comic book film that followed.  In spite of the obstacles however, they turned out what I believe to be a truly satisfying conclusion to their Batman legend, one which stands firmly with the first two as the definitive take on The Dark Knight thus far committed to film. 
The film takes place 8 years after the events of Dark Knight, in which Joker's reign of terror and Harvey Dent's fall into darkness left Batman shattered, both emotionally and physically.  In order to keep people from losing faith, Batman takes the blame for Harvey's short killing spree as well as his death and is forced into retirement.  Besides Alfred, only Jim Gordon knows the truth, but reluctantly keeps the secret so Harvey's death won't have been in vain.  Instead, his death gives lawmakers the means to aggressively fight organized crime and clean up the streets.  When Dark Knight Rises begins, Gotham City is virtually free of organized crime and everything, at least on the surface, seems peaceful.  When we see Bruce, he's a frail shadow of his former self and has become a shut-in who rarely leaves Wayne Manor.  Not only is he physically scarred, requiring a cane to walk, but he's emotionally scarred and unable to move on with his life.  As a concerned Alfred points out, he hung up his cape and cowl but never went out to find a life; he's simply frozen in the past and waiting for things to go bad again, waiting to be needed again. 
Lucky for him, things soon go bad when a merciless mercenary named Bane unleashes his plan to take control of Gotham.  I was thrilled when I heard Bane would be the film's villain since he's a real badass in the comics (he did after all break Batman's back in Knightfall).  I hoped Nolan's version would erase the sickening stain of the moronic, mono-syllabic Bane from Batman and Robin.  Finally we'd get a Bane who's not only physically dominating but also intellectually equal to Batman.  This Bane, played by Tom Hardy, is a strategist who meticulously plans to hold Gotham City hostage with his army of loyal followers.  Literally rising from Gotham's sewers like a flood, Bane and his army completely overwhelm a city that has been lulled into a false sense of security.  Before he can do that though, Bane plans to take down the Batman, who ultimately succumbs to his Batman addiction when Bane and his men attack the Gotham stock exchange.  No sooner is Batman back on the streets than he's being chased down by just about every cop in Gotham.  Bane remains in the shadows (or in the sewer), studying Batman's skills and deducing his identity in order to lure Batman to him.  Batman ultimately confronts the mysterious masked man in the sewers and receives an epic beat-down, culminating in Bane lifting him over his head and snapping his back on his knee, just as in Knightfall.  What makes the fight so thrilling is the gritty rawness.  There's no music, only the brutal sound of two bruisers duking it out.  Rather than a stylized dance-like fight, we get a street brawl, which is more befitting Bane's brutal, ferocious combat style.  Bane would've been a challenge for Batman in his prime, but being older and already battered up, he doesn't stand a chance.  Also, it's clear that even though he's put the costume back on, Bruce is no longer in that Batman mind-set that gave him an edge years earlier.  At this point, he's simply lost the will to live, a willpower which gave him the extra drive he needed back in the day. 
Once Batman's out of the way, Bane detonates hidden explosives across the city that blow the island's bridges and trap Gotham's police force underground, allowing his army of mercenaries to hold the city hostage with an armed nuclear bomb they threaten to set off if anyone tries to leave.  While Gotham adjusts to life under occupation, Bruce is left in a deep prison pit in an unspecified part of the world where he learns about Bane's origins.  I've heard some people complain that Bane's origins were too heavily altered in the film, but I felt they remained faithful to the important aspects.  The film indicates that Bane was born in the prison but unlike in the comics, he didn't escape.  We learn that not only was Bane a member of the League of Shadows but was trained then excommunicated by Ra's Al Ghul.  From what I know, Bane had an association with Ra's Al Ghul in the comics as well, once being considered as a suitable mate for Ra's daughter Talia, who I'll get to later.  Undoubtedly, the biggest change for Bane was the loss of the Venom serum which gives him his Hulk like strength and the Mexican wrestling mask he wears.  In line with Nolan's grounded vision, Bane doesn't use Venom to gain superhuman strength; he's simply faster and stronger than Batman because he worked harder.  This makes him more believable as a threat and as more of a challenge because Batman can't just cut the tube that pumps Venom directly into Bane's body.  In order to beat him, Bats must step up his game.  The mouth apparatus Bane wears gives him a more menacing, animalistic look and seeing his eyes adds to the menacing quality.  This apparatus pumps anesthetic gas into his system to relieve the constant pain he's in from a beating he endured years earlier in the prison. 
While recovering in the pit, Bruce learns that years before, a child made the climb to freedom that no one else has been able to do.  Bruce assumes this child was Bane and with the help of a vision of Ra's Al Ghul, comes to the conclusion that Bane must be Ra's' child.  Upon hearing this, my friends and I were confused because in the comics, Ra's has a daughter named Talia, with whom Bats has a torrid relationship and even a child named Damian.  Luckily though, Bruce learns that Bane is neither the child of Ghul nor the child who made the climb.  Turns out that Miranda Tate, the woman Bruce trusts with his company and sleeps with is actually Talia, the child who escaped with the help of her protector Bane, who she's working with to fulfill her father's mission and destroy Gotham.  Although I should've seen this coming, I didn't realize her treachery until 5 seconds before she turns on Bruce.  People seem to think that Talia's the real mastermind and that Bane's just working for her, but I like to think they're working together for a shared goal.  Bane's the one who had to execute the plan, Talia only revealed her duplicity at the end.  So, after two failed attempts, Bruce finally makes the jump and climbs out of the prison, but only after he does so without a rope, as the child did.  This brings back his primal fear of death which in turn gives him the extra push he needs to make the jump.  Just as when he was a child and fell into the well full of Bats, Bruce must confront fear again in order to re-discover his will to live and fight.  Once out of the pit, he manages to sneak back into Gotham undetected (he's Batman remember), finds Lucius Fox and Gordon and goes about reclaiming the city. 
He also gets some help from a cat burglar he met earlier in the film named Selina Kyle.  Selina Kyle is of course Catwoman, although she's never referred to as Catwoman in the film and she's played wonderfully by Anne Hathaway.  In fact, Anne's performance is one of the highlights if you ask me.  Rather than being resurrected into a frisky cat lady after being licked by alley cats, this Cat-woman is a street-smart thief who uses her wits and charm to take from those who have more than enough.  In the film she acts as a catalyst to get Bruce back into the world when she steals his mother's pearl necklace, forcing him to dust off his detective skills to track her down.  Although she initially leads Batman into Bane's trap, ultimately Selina helps Bruce reclaim the city and get ahold of the bomb.  After Batman confronts Bane on the streets of Gotham and manages to get the upper hand, he's forced to use his flying Bat to carry the bomb out over the bay seconds before it detonates.  We see the Bat flying out over the water and disappear in a mushroom cloud.  
I went into the film partly prepared to see Batman die given the realistic nature of the films.  Still, I hoped he could find a way to survive and sure enough, in typical Batman fashion, he found a sneaky way to do this.  The ending was a hot topic of conversation for months after, with people debating whether or not Bruce survived the explosion.  Clearly Nolan strove to keep people debating, but a second viewing makes it clear that Bruce did indeed fake his death in order to finally move on with his life.  First off, though he led everyone to believe differently, Bruce fixed the pesky auto-pilot function on the Bat, allowing him to bail out quickly as it raced out over the bay.  Just as the Bat-pod was built into the Batmobile, the Bat must've had a water craft built-in to allow for escape and as soon as Bruce hit the water, he hauled ass away from the blast.  If anyone has the ability to disappear, it's Bruce Wayne.  Just think, he managed to convince the world he was dead for the seven years he trained to be Batman. 
Bruce then made arrangements to help those closest to him; whatever was left of his estate after auction he gave to Alfred and he had Wayne Manor converted into a home for orphans.  He left the cave and presumably all his Bat stuff to an idealist young cop named Blake (Joseph Gordon Levitt), who helped him take back the city and whose birth name we find out, is Robin.  Of course this sent a palpable jolt of excitement through the audience, but it was meant to be merely a wink to the audience rather than an indication that Blake would become Robin.  First off, Robin's name is not Robin just as Batman's name is not Batman.  If his legal name had been Dick Grayson, that'd be a different story.  Given that Batman retired, it's more likely that Blake will take up Batman's mantle, thereby validating Bruce's claim that Batman can be anyone.  Or perhaps Blake will take Bruce's equipment but create a new persona using an evocative image of his own...so if he likes Robins a lot then who knows.  Bottom line is that the film's ending supports the concept that Batman isn't just one man; he's an incorruptible symbol that anyone can be a hero just by doing the simplest thing.  In the end, we see Alfred enjoying some fancy cocktail at an Italian café and catching a glimpse of Master Bruce seated at a table with Selina Kyle.  The two men subtly acknowledge each other before Alfred gets up and leaves.  Debate also ensued over whether Bruce was really there or whether Alfred was just imagining Bruce being there, having finally found happiness.  I think by now most people are convinced that it really was Bruce because why would Alfred imagine Bruce with Selina Kyle, a woman he never really got to know.  It's safe to say that Bruce survived and finally found peace in a life so torn by darkness and chaos.  I for one didn't think Batman would be rising again so soon in the upcoming Batman/Superman film, but I guess it goes to show that you can never keep Batman down for long; he'll always rise again.                                             

The End is Here: The Dexter Finale

After 8 years, Dexter's finally been wrapped up for better or worse. 

So, now that the storm has finally passed and I've had some time to process what happened, it's time to talk about the insane series finale of Dexter.  After 8 years of serial killer killing, Dexter finished for good with a finale full of surprises and not particularly good ones.  I might be one of the few people who not only continued to follow the show after Rita was killed off in what is undoubtedly the best season, season 4, but also enjoyed most of the later seasons.  It seems a lot of people felt the writing got really sloppy and repetitive after 4, but for the most part I felt the writers got more daring in the later seasons and I liked to see Dexter's issues become more complex and personal.  Sure, following up a mind blower like season 4 was close to impossible and that's probably why a lot of people didn't like season 5.  I enjoyed it even though it's not my favorite.  What most might've seen as missteps in the later seasons, I looked at as compellingly ambiguous material.  Even subject matter that might've made some uncomfortable, I felt was explored honestly.   In later seasons, as Dexter raised his son Harrison without Rita and tried to balance his killer needs with his cover life, which became all the more real for him, it was great to see him grapple with deeper issues than just his urge to kill.  In just a few seasons, he came a long way from his season 1 self, where his total focus was only satisfying his dark passenger and maintaining his cover in order to blend in.  Once he married Rita and had Harrison, the cover life became real for him and real emotion began to  creep in slowly.  His relationship to his foster sister Deb also deepened as they experienced personal pain and trauma together, which strengthened their bond.   
In season 7, Deb stumbled upon Dexter killing fellow serial killer Travis Marshall and despite Dexter's attempts to throw her off the trail, she ultimately got him to confess his own killer tendencies.  I thought season 7 was one of the best because the writers had the balls to irrevocably shatter what had previously been the most enjoyable relationship of the show, that between Dex and Deb.  Letting her in on the secret threw their relationship into completely unknown territory as Deb (who was Dexter's Lieutenant at the time) grappled with what to do in an impossible situation.  Deb's deep love for her brother not only kept her from arresting Dex but also led her to reluctantly lie for him as she desperately tried to rid him of his urges, convinced that he was essentially a good person.  Deb's belief in Dexter's essential goodness helped Dexter begin to see himself as more than just a monster, as he'd always referred to himself in early seasons.  The writers did a good job preserving Deb's essential goodness even as she compromised many of her values for Dexter.  Deb's love for her brother ultimately leads her to kill her boss, Capt. Laguerta when she discovers that Dexter is the real Bay Harbor Butcher.  At the start of season 8, Deb's guilt over killing Laguerta forces her to leave Miami Metro and fall into an emotional tailspin.  Dexter too is emotionally frazzled after Deb refuses to speak to him and states that she shot the wrong person.  More than any other, season 8 showed the depth of love they share for each other and how even someone like Dexter, who claims to be devoid of emotion, is deeply affected by the situation.  Season 8 may not have had the same intense buildup that some of the early seasons had, but I was captivated just about all the way through.
One of the big subplots that seemed to anger a lot of fans was the decision to bring back Hannah Mckay, Dexter's scorned girlfriend from season 7 who's racked up a decent sized body count of her own.  After Hannah tried to kill Deb, forcing Dex to reluctantly turn her in to protect his sister, Hannah managed to escape prison and inevitably returned in season 8.  Although initially uncertain of her motives, Dexter couldn't help being drawn to her again and soon the two renewed their relationship.  Call me a hopeless romantic, but once it became clear that Hannah was no longer a threat to Deb, I for one hoped that Dexter could truly find love and happiness and put the dark passenger behind him.  Given the nature of the show however, I seriously doubted that he'd get a happy ending like that.  Even so, I really didn't expect the show to end the way it did.  In the final episodes, Dexter and Hannah decide to move to Argentina with Harrison because Hannah's being hunted by a Federal Marshall.  Deb, who's been hiding Hannah in her house until they can leave, tries to help Dexter hunt down a killer named Oliver Saxon, who threatened to kill Dexter's loved ones.  With Deb's help, Dexter subdues Saxon but rather than kill him, he decides to let Deb bring him in and return to Miami Metro a hero while Dexter leaves with Hannah and Harrison.  Dexter's decision to let Saxon lives signified that he let go of the Dark Passenger and no longer felt the need to kill.  I liked how he tried to do what he felt was right by walking away from a kill and letting Deb be the hero.  What neither Dex or Deb could've counted on was that the Marshall hunting Hannah would follow Deb to where Dexter was holding Saxon and while Dex and Deb talked outside, slipped in and released Saxon thinking he was an innocent victim.  Saxon repaid the Marshall by stabbing him, grabbing his gun and shooting Deb as she burst back in.  Deb survived the gunshot but in the final episode, a blood-clot to her brain leaves her in a vegetative state, much to Dex's dismay.  Loving Deb as much as I do, it was awful to see her like that and it felt even worse that it was a random blood-clot that left her in that state.  Still, much as I dreaded it happening, I can't say I was totally surprised that she would die.  I sensed that these characters wouldn't come out of the shit storm unscathed and given the nature of events, I feared it might be Deb. 
What really shocked and disappointed me was what Dexter did after finding out that Deb was vegetative.  Saxon was arrested at the hospital trying to finish off Deb for good and Dexter finds a way to kill him and make it look enough like self-defense.  Dexter then drives his boat to the hospital and, dressed in his kill clothes, tearfully pulls the plug on Deb and wheels her out to his boat as the hospital is being evacuated for the coming hurricane.  He drives his boat to the spot where he dumps his victims and with the storm brewing around him, drops Deb's body in the choppy water and watches her sink to the bottom.  It was almost traumatizing to watch such a beloved character like Deb being thrown in the ocean, even though Dexter did it to honor his sister in his own way. 
After this we hear Dexter's voice over saying that Deb was wrong about him being good.  Despite Deb's final words telling him that it wasn't his fault, Dex blames himself for what happened to her and says that he's poison to everyone he cares about.  With that he decides that he has to protect Hannah and Harrison from himself and drives his boat straight into the storm and disappears.  This I never saw coming.  Even more unexpected were the finals scenes after the storm where they find the wreckage of Dexter's boat but no Dexter and we see Hannah get the news with Harrison at her side somewhere in South America.  Lastly we cut to a lumberyard in what seems like Canada or someplace and see a bearded lumberjack returning to his cabin.  Surprise, Surprise, it's Dexter who somehow survived his suicide attempt and is living in total anonymity.  The episode ends with him sitting down at a table and looking straight at the camera, with a strange look on his face.  Has the dark passenger returned leaving him free to kill again?  Has he resigned himself to the fact that he can never change his nature?  This ending reminded me immediately of The Dark Knight Rises ending, but in that I felt glad that Bruce had finally gotten past the issues that made him need Batman.  Dexter's end didn't give me a sense of resolution or happiness.  Like Bruce, I wanted Dexter to be able to overcome his urge to kill and have a "normalish" life for the sake of his son.  The ending is purposefully vague and interpretive, but I just felt really bad that he simply surrendered to the belief that he's a monster who destroys everyone he loves.  His decision to abandon Hannah and Harrison made me feel that Deb died in vain.  She kept saying near the end that he deserved happiness with Hannah and Harrison and that she didn't want him to feel guilty for everything that happened to her.  I understood why he feels guilty, but feel that he should've honored Deb's wish for him to leave and be with the people who love and need him. 
After making so much progress, it was heartbreaking to see him fall back into believing he's just a monster.  Deb showed him that no matter what, he was always there to make her feel safe and protected, even back when they were kids.  Dexter proved that he had overcome his darkness when he let Saxon live but since he killed him to avenge Deb, he has no other living enemies who could threaten Hannah or Harrison.  Assuming he's able to leave the Dark Passenger behind for good, there's no reason to believe trouble would follow him down to South America.  Rather than protecting them, his abandonment deprives Harrison of his father as well as his mother and leaves everyone left behind, including Hannah, with an unresolved feeling.  I guess Dexter's suicide attempt was a way to show that Dexter can't live without Deb, but I feel the best way to honor Deb was to do as she wished.  Ultimately, this disappointed me most about the finale.  Deb's death was wrenching enough, so I hoped for Dexter to be able to find some kind of contentment at the end.  Despite what he came to believe about himself, Deb was right when she reminisced about Dexter protecting her from imaginary monsters as a child.  In the end, Dexter was never a real monster; he kept the real monsters at bay.                               

The Dark Knight: Darkest Before The Dawn

In The Dark Knight, we enter a world without rules courtesy of The Joker. 

We all know that Batman Begins single-handedly brought the Caped Crusader back from the land of dead film franchises, but it was the The Dark Knight which irrevocably changed the way we view "comic book" films, dragging a genre largely considered to be kid's stuff through the gutters of Gotham to a new level of gritty maturity.  After re-envisioning Batman as a serious and believable creature of the night, Chris Nolan set out to push his Dark Knight and the audience into darker and grittier territory where the line between right and wrong is incredibly hazy.  Nolan's mission was to base these iconic characters in a real world that would feel familiar and relevant.  If Begins didn't achieve this, then Dark Knight obliterated every last shred of doubt that a comic book inspired story could feel like it was actually happening.  Never before had the threat felt so real and visceral, never had the stakes seemed so high or the outcome so dire and all this was due to one unstoppable tornado of chaos who, out of nowhere and without any powers or master plan, plunged Gotham into a dark night of anarchy and terror that pushed Batman closer than ever to the razor thin line between hero and vigilante.
Of course I'm talking about Heath Ledger's already legendary take on Batman's (if not comic book's) greatest villain, The Joker.  Nolan cleverly saved The Joker for the second film, unleashing his one man reign of terror on the city just as it's starting to get its act together thanks to The Batman.  At the film's start, Batman with help from his ally Lt. Gordon, have severely crippled organized crime in the city, striking terror in the heart's of Gotham's criminals.  Much of the film's inspiration comes from Jeph Loeb's epic masterpiece The Long Halloween, in which Batman, Gordon and Harvey Dent form an uneasy alliance to take down the mob.  Batman's war on crime has left a sudden void in Gotham's underworld.  Exploding out of this chasm like a rogue comet comes the Joker.  More than any other portrayal, Ledger captured the true essence of this most notorious of Batman rogues: utter chaos and destruction for the sheer thrill of it.  Inspired by the challenge presented by Batman, the Joker steps in to prove that order, fairness and justice are merely illusions to which people desperately cling and that all it takes is one bad day to make anyone as crazy as he (or Batman) is.  In their desperation, the mob turns to the Joker hoping that he can kill Batman, but they soon learn, as does Bats, that this is a man who can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with; he simply wants to watch the world burn and once he's let off the leash, he begins a campaign of urban terror that pushes Batman to his breaking point.  Joining Bats and Gordon in their fight is newly elected D.A. Harvey Dent, who becomes the face of Gotham's resilience in the midst of the mayhem wrought by the Joker.  Soon public officials are dropping left and right and people like Dent are being targeted by the Joker.  But that's just the start of his fun.  If he has any plan, it's to push the Batman to his limits to see if he will break his golden rule not to ever take a life.  As Joker's campaign of chaos grows like wildfire, Batman must step up his game and risk crossing moral lines to stop the mad dog.
Unlike Nicholson's Joker, Ledger's version didn't take a plunge into a vat of chemicals, which not only bleached his skin but drove him mad. This Joker simply chooses to paint his face white, smear red lipstick on the creepy scars that curl his mouth into a permanent grin and tint his long greasy hair green.  There's no specific incident that sent him off the deep end; instead it's as if he simply chose to be this crazy, which is even more frightening.  Adding to his scariness is the fact that his origin is never truly explained; he constantly changes the story of how he got those scars, proving that it's all bullshit.  The fact that you can't sympathize with a tragic origin story makes him all the more terrifying.  Like the shark in Jaws, he comes out of nowhere and is nothing but a force of unrelenting destruction.  Where Nicholson's Joker considered himself a homicidal artist, employing classic Joker pranks like acid squirting flowers and electric hand buzzers, Ledger's Clown Prince of Crime is an urban terrorist who uses knives, guns and the occasional bazooka to hold the city in the grip of fear.  Nicholson's Joker was creepy; Ledger's is down right terrifying.  He's what the Joker would be like if he existed in our modern world.  The key to the Joker's effectiveness is that he simply has no fear.  There's nothing anyone, including Batman, can do to frighten him; he's a man who sees death as the greatest joke.  Therefore he can't be threatened because he has nothing to lose; he can't be predicted because he's totally unpredictable; he has no end game and no set goal.  He's also got a Zen-like ability to adapt to any situation that arises because he lives wholly in the moment.  Ledger conveyed this with frightening efficiency, comparing himself to a dog chasing cars who wouldn't know what to do if he caught one.



The legendary foes not quite facing off.

The Dark Knight conveys what makes Batman and Joker perhaps the greatest of hero/villain duos.  As Joker continually points out, he and Batman are insane men who've made insane choices, but they're on opposite sides of the same coin.  Both can not be bought, bullied or negotiated with and both are fiercely (or insanely) dedicated to their principles or lack thereof in the Joker's case.  Joker sees a worthy opponent in Batman, one he continually tries to coerce into breaking his rule, most notably by daring Batman to run him down with his Bat-pod.  That epic scene in which Ledger doesn't even flinch as Batman speeds towards him only to swerve at the last second, defines their legendary relationship.  Neither can bring himself to kill the other, but for different reasons.  It's as if they're dependent on each other for a worthy challenge to give them purpose.  As the chaos escalates, it becomes a game of one-upmanship with each guy trying to outdo the other.  When Joker hijacks an eighteen wheeler and wrecks highway havoc, Batman flips the truck completely over in what is one of the coolest, live action shots in any film.  Although he can't corrupt Batman, the Joker's toxic influence manages to corrupt Gotham's white knight, Harvey Dent.  It might've been the mob's plan to kidnap Dent and his girlfriend Rachael, but it was the Joker who knew their locations and knowing Batman would go for Rachael, switched the addresses so he'd inadvertently save Dent.  Batman saves Dent from the explosion, but can't save half of Dent's face from being burned.  That coupled with news that his beloved Rachael is dead pushes Dent over the edge and he becomes Two-Face, vowing revenge on the mobsters and cops who set him up.  In The Long Halloween, it's acid to the face that transforms Dent into Two Face, but the result's ultimately the same.  Dent's descent in madness mirrors the tragic nature of the character in the comics.  Rather than being a one-dimensional crazy killer, it easy to understand what led Harvey down his dark path.  Joker used Dent to prove to Batman that even good, infallible people can be corrupted.  Although "Two-Face" only appears towards the film's end, his tragic downfall proves to Batman how easy it is to become the very "evil" you swear to combat. 
Though devastated by Rachael's death, Batman musters every last ounce of strength, both physical and mental to confront the Joker one last time as he continues trying to prove that deep down all people are capable of terrible things if their lives are in danger.  For a mass murdering psychopath, you gotta admit that the Joker makes some good points about our capacity for evil.  Even so, Batman continues to believe that people are also capable of tremendous good.  After leaving the Joker hanging upside down from a building, Bats goes to confront Harvey who's taken Gordon's family hostage out of a desire for revenge.  Dent admits that The Joker was right, that the only true fairness is random chance, represented by his famous scarred coin.  He uses the coin to determine if he should kill Gordon's family.  Luckily, before he can carry out these verdicts, Batman knocks him off the building and saves Gordon's young son.  Ironically, the fall or the landing rather, broke Dent's neck, meaning that Batman killed him.  The Joker did far worse stuff, but Batman let him live to prove he wouldn't cross that line.  In this case, Batman did what he had to do to save Gordon's son but it just goes to show that right and wrong are not black and white concepts.  More than any other comic book movie, The Dark Knight explores complex moral issues without giving clear cut answers.  The world of the film feels eerily familiar to our own, one in which we have our own share of Jokers who simply want to watch the world burn. 
                   

Learning to Fly: Superman's Wonder Years in Smallville

Clark Kent on the precipice of becoming Superman in Smallville.

It may have taken 12 years, but I finally finished all ten seasons of Smallville, the show about Superman's wonder years in that tiny Kansas town.  You might be asking why it took a Superman fanatic like myself so long to watch the whole series.  It's a question I often asked myself, especially considering that I watched it religiously in the beginning.  The night it aired is still crystal clear in my mind all these years later.  It couldn't have been more than a month after 9/11 and there was a palpable feeling that we needed heroes like Superman more than ever to inspire hope in those dark, uncertain days.  Right from the start I loved the feel of the show, which although inspired by the Chris Reeve films, managed to put it's own spin on many elements of the Superman story.  The first major spin answered the question of how all that damn kryptonite got here by showing a cluster of meteors loaded with the stuff hurtling towards earth along with Kal-El's ship and raining down like hellfire on the unsuspecting town.   In addition to bringing Clark to his knees, all that glowing green stuff helped spawn a slew of often psychotic, super-powered meteor freaks for Clark to battle in the early seasons.   The decision to not only have Lex Luthor in the show but have him be Clark's friend after he accidently hits him with his car and drives off a bridge, only to be rescued by Clark, was another surprising spin.  Lex is grateful to his savior, but can't shake the feeling that there's more to his new friend than meets the eye.  What's cool about this younger Lex, played to perfection by Michael Rosenbaum, is that he begins as a sympathetic character genuinely trying to do the right thing despite being slowly corrupted by his cold father Lionel, a cutthroat businessman who's only a shadow of what Lex will become.  The fact that Clark and Lex are destined to be enemies makes their initial friendship all the more fascinating to watch.  Although young, Rosenbaum's Lex showed hints of the underlying darkness characterizing the power hungry Lex who'll go on to run Lexcorp and most of Metropolis and his transformation from Clark's friend to his enemy is thrilling to watch.        

The first seasons were great because there's so much about Clark's early days that hadn't been seen in great detail.  The writers cleverly introduce Clark's burgeoning powers as if they're results of puberty.  When his heat vision first manifests, it's because he gets turned on and the spot he's looking at suddenly bursts into flames.  It doesn't help that Smallville's full of gorgeous gals, such as Clark's first love, Lana Lang and his girl Friday Chloe Sullivan and it becomes imperative that he learn to control these abilities before he starts lighting loved ones on fire.  With the help of his parents, who have a big role in the early seasons, Clark learns to master each new power.  Clark also struggles to lead a normal life after learning about his alien origins.  The show did a great job conveying Clark's sense of isolation and his strong desire to be normal.  In earlier incarnations, his abilities are seen as a gift, but in Smallville his powers begin as more of a curse making him feel all the more alien among his peers.   Those abilities come in handy when dealing with the crazy meteor freaks always targeting Clark's friends.  The early seasons are loaded with so many of these one-shot villains (dubbed freaks of the week) and after a while it got a little old.  Clark's pinning for Lana and their back and forth got tiring around season 3, crossing into teen romance bullshit because of Clark's inability to tell Lana his secret.  He always claims it's to protect her but since she and all his other friends are always in danger anyway, telling them wouldn't make a huge difference.  With beautiful girls like that around, I'd be able to keep my secret for about 15 seconds, but that's why I'm not Superman.
In season 4, the adorable Chloe Sullivan discovers Clark's secret and becomes one of his closest allies.  Season 4 also introduced Chloe's cousin to the show, a girl named Lois Lane played by the lovely Erica Durance who I had the pleasure of meeting.  Just as with Lex, I wondered how Lois wouldn't instantly recognize Clark as Superman years later if she meets him sans glasses and goofy mannerisms.  I initially expected Clark and Lois to follow the traditional dynamic, but after a while it became clear that wouldn't be the case.  Although Lois is initially dismissive of Clark as he pines for Lana, eventually the two develop deep feelings for each other.  What I came to love about Smallville is that it's a bridge between traditional Superman mythos and current, updated versions such as Man of Steel.  The show honors the past by using familiar elements such as the crystal fortress, a Jor-El based on Brando's and Jonathan Kent's death by heart attack while also introducing updated elements.  Lois and Clark's relationship for example, ultimately becomes like their relationship in Man of Steel, where Lois knows Clark's secret before he's even Superman and that makes for a deeper relationship that's refreshing.  Aside from the ongoing Lana-Clark drama, I began to lose interest when they brought in too many DC characters far too early.  Looking back now, I understand how hard it must've been writing ten seasons worth of compelling stories without falling back into old territory or delving to deeply into Superman's later adventures.  This started to fall apart after season 7, when Lex left the show and they introduced Doomsday, altering his origin to allow him to appear human and blend in only to hulk out and go on rampages.  At the time I thought it was crazy to bring in characters like Doomsday before Clark's Superman and I started to tune out.  Still, when the buzz around Man of Steel started growing, I wanted the pay off of seeing Tom Welling's Clark become Superman as well as finally tell Lois his secret.  The show had initially promised no tights, no flights but I figured after 10 years, they might've lightened up on that front.  So I picked up at season 8 with the mission to see it through to the end.  The thing about Smallville is that, especially in later seasons, it's very hit and miss.  Some episodes are downright ridiculous even for comic book lore while others are spot on and reaffirm all that's great about Superman.  Some episodes are cluttered with too many DC characters and rely too heavily on uninventive quick fixes such as reversals in time and reincarnation.  Clark for instance, dies several times in the show and is usually brought back by Jor-El, who for a dead guy is basically an all powerful god.  I understand that time travel and reincarnation have a place in Sci-Fi/fantasy but they have to be used tastefully, not overused as an easy fix when writers hit a wall.  I was also often frustrated at Clark's inability to take action when the situation called for it.  Often the fights with major villains such as Doomsday and Zod are a bit disappointing considering the buildup to them.  I know that part of what makes him Superman is his diplomacy but there are times in the show when his hesitancy to take action against villains ironically causes more innocent people to die.
I made it through seasons 8 and 9 and watched Clark establish himself in Metropolis as a vigilante dubbed the red-blue blur after appearing in one of Jimmy Olsen's photos while going super-speed.  Yes, Jimmy's in the show for a while and works with Lois and Clark at the planet.  Lois and Clark finally begin dating in season 9 and ultimately she discovers that Clark is the Blur but keeps quiet until Clark, fearing he'll lose her, tells her everything about himself.  This carries their relationship into deeper territory never really explored outside the comics, territory that's more compelling than watching Clark struggle to hide his miraculous saves again and again from those close to him.  I hope to see this deeper relationship explored further in the MOS sequel as well.   Unlike with Lana, Clark is more assertive and expressive with Lois and by season 10, she is his closest confidant and supporter. 
Overall, season 10 is a great wrap up for this early chapter of Clark's life, full of many long awaited milestones as Clark finally lets go of the guilt and darkness of his past and takes his final steps to becoming earth's greatest hero with Lois by his side.  Like Amy Adams, Erica Durance's Lois seems a perfect match for Clark and someone he can truly love.  It's easy to see what she sees in him but hasn't always been easy to understand what he sees in her.  In Smallville, Lois is tough but loving, stubborn yet devoted to protecting Clark's secret and supporting him (not to mention she's believable as a reporter).  Even with occasional blemishes, getting to the finale and watching him finally take to the skies in the iconic red, yellow and blue to confront season 10's villain, Darkseid was a tremendous, bittersweet moment that had me misty eyed.  We see him save Air Force One like he does in Superman: The Movie but this time with Lois on board, beaming as she sees her man flying outside the window.  The moving finale brought back several familiar but long absent faces, most notably Lex, who resurfaces to seize control of his empire and his destiny as Clark's greatest adversary.  After Clark saves earth from Darkseid's wrath, we jump ahead seven years to the Daily Planet where all the legendary characters are in their rightful places and Clark, hearing there's a bomb in an elevator, races up to the roof and with John Williams legendary music swelling triumphantly, rips open his shirt to reveal the S and flies off to save the day.  For Superman fans like myself, this was a beautiful culmination to a legendary hero's journey that began in a little town called Smallville.