Four of Them

I know, darlings. This is a movie blog. What am I doing talking about comics? But you know what? It's my blog, and I'm meeting you halfway. And who you gonna tell? WHO'S GONNA BELIEVE YOU?

That picture means nothing.

All-Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder


If you haven't read this, I commend your preserved innocence towards the whole Frank Miller lot. Because this thing is just full of mind fucks. The Batman of The Dark Knight Returns (might've been my first choice, if it weren't such a very confusing place to start a stand-alone movie)? He didn't get like that from years of brooding and face-punching and noir-ish monologues. He's just like that. The first we get of the cowl? He's kidnapping the recently-orphaned (and by recently, I mean, like, half an hour ago) Dick Grayson (age 12). He then spends real-world-time one year with the poor kid in the batmobile/rocket/fuck-you-whatever-the-fuck-else-I-say-it-is, slapping and growling at him and generally being an asshole of the highest order.

But, um, otherwise. This thing is full of gratuitous sex, impossible body parts, gore, traumatized children going sociopathic, Wonder Woman as a raging man-hater with a thing for a buffoonish Superman, and the Joker as a neo-nazi gangster. So, y'know. Just the sort of thing one'd pay ten bucks to see acted out by the latest European expat?

Also, of course, this glorious piece of Frank Miller gave us the phrase 'the goddamn Batman'.

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Here I've been, neglecting even your blogs, too deep into my comics and my Tumblr to stop and consider, gee, how is this affecting my vast, endless readership? And I know you've been hurting. In pain. I feel your pain. And I'm here. I'm here for you.

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