The Dark Knight Returns

Since we so rarely get the opportunity to take advantage of the curmudgelings' grandparents, Mrs. Curmudgeon and I left them in their maternal grands' tender care whilst in Janesville, Wisconsin, a couple weeks ago in order to see The Dark Knight Rises for approximate two-thirds the cost of a screening in the Mile-High City. A few scenes paid homage to Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns, which clearly was a major influence on Christopher Nolan's entire Batman trilogy.

Then Elvis Mitchell did something very interesting. His The Treatment, in which he interviews mostly film-makers, is the latest addition to my regular line-up of podcasts. His interview of Christopher Nolan was prefaced by mentions of the movie theatre massacre here in Aurora. Then, without additional comment, he followed up that interview on The Dark Knight Returns by re-releasing earlier Nolan interviews on Batman Begins and Memento. My guess is Elvis Mitchell wanted to do his bit to remind us all that Christopher Nolan is an interesting film-maker whose word deserves notice on its own merits, which is very true. Listening to those interviews reminded me of my pressing need to see Memento again soon, and sparked an interest in watching the entire Batman trilogy once it's released on DVD. (Ideally, in one sitting!)

Since I don't have the time to do that, I took advantage of a nasty cold to, for the umpteenth time, read Frank Miller's The Dark Knigh Returns. I don't know how much my carefully-preserved first edition set might fetch on the open market, but I will never sell it. Miller's work fascinates not simply because it created the current definitive interpretation of this iconic character, nor because it changed the entire trajectory of superhero comics in these United States for at least two decades, but because of how he did it.

In collaboration with colorist Lynn Varley, Miller uses almost-cartoonish forms to make the Batman's physical presence dominate every frame, elevating him to mythic status. As a storyteller, he achieves the same effect by beginning his story ten years after the Batman's retirement. Hence, he's able, within the confines of the narrative, to begin with a mythical character rather than having to lift him to that status himself. He gets all the work done before his story begins so he can concentrate on the story itself, which faithfully reveals the person, good and bad, who would become the Batman in the first place.

The Dark Knight Returns is far from perfect (within six panels, the same character is referred to as both "Lois Lane" and "Lana Lang"), but its energy and impact continue to astound. While I like Christopher Nolan's Batman, Frank Miller's is the one which continues to fascinate me.

Oh. And Superman is in it, too.