This is not the worst comic book I have ever read. It’s not the worst Batman comic by far, and it’s actually not the worst Kevin Smith comic book either, as that title is still held by Spider-Man/Black Cat, and the less said about that one, the better. So no, not the worst by a long shot.
That said, it is still pretty Goddamn terrible.
Seriously, I don’t even know where to begin with this thing, but I guess I’ll start by saying that for the first three pages, where Smith sets things up with the story of a laid-off Arkham guard selling secrets to the underworld, it’s actually pretty good. It’s a nice setup, and it works well in the context of a world that can’t seem to keep its most dangerous criminals locked up for more than a couple of story arcs. But then you hit page four, and once the Joker starts talking about his pubic hair, everything goes straight to hell.
Batman: Cacophony is what you’d get if you asked a twelve year old to write his idea of an “adult” comic: Everyone wears trenchcoats so that you know they’re super-badass, and there’s a string of sex jokes–continuing through the almost obligatory anal sex joke right on through Mr. Zsasz talking about cutting his penis because that’s the only spot he has left–that’s just embarrassing for everyone concerned. Not because they’re sex jokes, but–again–because they’re the sex jokes a kid trying to sound edgy and grown up writes in his fan-fiction. Which is pretty much what this is, but without the level of quality control you get from the online community that actually wants to read about the Mad Hatter trying to fuck the Joker.
And the rest of it’s just as awful. I actually did enjoy Batman’s appearance in Smith’s run on Green Arrow, but the more I look at this thing, the more I realize that was because Batman kept his mouth shut for most of that one. I mean, dialogue’s supposed to be Smith’s forte, but seriously, the easiest way to improve this thing would be to just take out Smith’s ham-fisted narration, where Batman grunts his way through the laughably maudlin (”Don’t worry, kids… the monster can’t hurt you anymore” and “Two people who somehow found each other in an otherwise horrible world. Like my PARENTS”) or the downright stupid (”I crash Zsasz’s unholy briss,” in which “bris” is misspelled, and “Baruch haba, SCUMBAG,” which I think speaks for itself). Cut those out, and the fight with Zsasz at least gets readable, but then you’ve got to deal with… well, with the rest of it.
Which of course brings us to Onomatopoeia. Now, I’ve mentioned before that I actually like Onomatopoeia as a villain, but probably not for the reason I’m supposed to. To me, he just seems like one of those goofy Silver Age villains that got a dark and gritty revamp in the ’90s, only there was never any Silver Age Onomatopoeia running around robbing the Radio Museum or whatever, which somehow makes him even funnier. But he’s not exactly the sort of character that I can buy as presenting a legitimate threat to Batman, and Smith knows that, so he goes to one of the oldest, laziest, and worst tricks in the comics writer’s handbook, and has him saunter into the story and take out someone who does: in this case, Deadshot. It’s a cheap trick that panders to the same crowd that wanders around talking about how Gambit could totally kill the Silver Surfer by charging up his board, spouting trivia without learning that there’s a greater narrative structure at work. He is essentially telling us that Onomatopoeia is as powerful as ten Gokus.
As for the art, well… Look. I’m not trying to rag on Walt Flanagan here, because let’s be honest: If I was an artist and my friend was writing a Batman story and he wanted me to draw it, I’d totally do it. And if Smith wanted Flanagan for the job, there’s no reason for DC to say no, because, c’mon, it’s not like any Kevin Smith fans are going to be upset that Steve-Dave’s sidekick from Mallrats is drawing Batman, and to be honest, he actually does a heck of a lot better than I expected. It’s a fantastic opportunity for him and I’ve got nothing but love for a guy who’s chasing the dream, but none of that changes the fact that there are a lot of sections where the art is amateurish. Nothing glaring, but there are rookie mistakes like the panel where Onomatopoeia’s holding two water pistols in his tiny hands at the end of a pair of very out of proportion arms, and in a book with a company’s flagship character, that stuff sticks out.
So for those of you who didn’t have the patience to get through seven paragraphs about this thing, here’s the short version: It is rough, but since it’s Kevin Smith writing Batman, I’m pretty sure that most of you guys are going to pick it up anyway, because, hell: I did, and I knew better going into it. Fortunately, my curiosity’s been taken care of, and when the next two issues roll out sometime in 2011, I can be sure to avoid those. |
This movie was pretty awsome if u like the 80's B horror. Its on Netflix
Where the hell are u gonna find gravey flavored condoms in any other movie ...........huh............... I LOVE U TURKEY!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was very excited to see the American Reunion movie. I saw American Pie just after college and remembered it was quite funny. Jim, Michelle, Oz, Heather, Stifler reunite for their high school...
this is the song to have fun on.
