I don't really want to talk about 2003's JLA/The Spectre: Soul War, but I do want to talk about how Batman and Hal Jordan finally make up

I was such a fan of Grant Morrison, Howard Porter and John Dell's JLA that I continued to read the series long after their run concluded (I kept reading until the very end of the book, in fact) and to pick up most if not all of the JLA-branded spin-off one-shots and mini-series. Some of these were good, many of them were not. 

One that I had put in the "not" category was 2003's two-issue JLA/The Spectre: Soul War, which, in 2026, I remembered nothing about other than the fact that I didn't like it at the time and that it featured the Hal Jordan Spectre, not the Jim Corrigan one. 

In the spirit of revisiting later JLA stories from the remove of twenty-some years in addition to having read or re-read a bunch of Spectre comics lately, it seemed natural enough to give Soul War another try. 

The series was written by J.M. DeMatteis, who had written Hal Jordan-as-The Spectre meeting with the JLA in 1999's JLA #35 as well as the entirety of the 2001-2003 fourth volume of The Spectre, the one starring Hal (In fact, Soul War was released the same month as Spectre #25, the third-to-last issue of the series; given that, I wonder if this mini-series was planned as a mini-series, or if the cancellation forced DeMatteis to repurpose a planned Spectre story arc here). 

Joining DeMatteis were pencil artist Darryl Banks and inker Paul Neary. 

This series came out in January and February 2003, the same month as JLA #75 and #76, just after the Joe Kelley, Doug Mahnke and Tom Nguyen team had completed their "Obsidian Age" epic. Therefore, a real stickler might have a hard time trying to orient the particular Justice League line-up that appears in DeMatteis' miniseries with the goings on in JLA. 

That's because the team here consists of the one from Mark Waid's run, the Big Seven plus Plastic Man, although Aquaman had been MIA for a while by that point. 

Complicating things further, Green Lantern Kyle Rayner is drawn wearing his new, terrible, Jim Lee-designed costume seen on the cover of 2002's Green Lantern #151 (the one with the dog collar) in Soul War. He had started wearing in the pages of JLA by the ramp up to "Obsidian Age", but that was a good year since Aquaman had been on the team, having been "killed" during the "Our Worlds At War" event (Actually, he was shunted into the prehistoric past; "Obsidian Age" was partially about a rescue mission to find him, although he wouldn't rejoin the team again until somewhere around 2004 arc "Syndicate Rules"). 

Wait, I guess I'm that sort of stickler, huh?

Anyway, enough set-up. I don't really want to discuss the series at great length, or at least not in great detail, because I still don't like it...although it's not a terribly objectionable comic in any particular way, and we've certainly gotten many, many far worse Justice League comics since its release. 

It's just very much of a piece with DeMatteis' Spectre, and indulges in quite a bit of sometimes heady, psuedo-scientific New Age-y concepts, a sharp 180 from the more simple, black-and-white Spectre of volume three (A likely result of Hal and DeMatteis trying to turn the Spectre from the Spirit of Vengeance to the Spirit of Redemption). I

t's also awfully wordy, the first page of each issue making me blanche and, inevitably, wait a few days between reading issue #1 and #2.

It's also not much of a Justice League story. Of the eight Leaguers, most of them are more-or-less irrelevant to the proceedings (This is in sharp contrast to DeMatteis' own JLA #35). The Flash, Aquaman and Wonder Woman get a few lines apiece, but hardly do much that demands their presence in the story at all (There is a panel or so in which Wonder Woman's lasso of truth play a role, I suppose, and one instance where Aquaman uses his telepathy to give J'onn's a boost). For the most part, they could be replaced by pretty much any other DC character, as they are there just to make this seem more like a JLA story than it might were they not.

Additionally, Plastic Man is fairly superfluous. He appears in many panels and gets a lot of lines—more than the three heroes I just mentioned—but he is mostly limited to dumb jokes, jokes which aren't really funny or insightful enough to truly serve as comedy relief, and jokes which all of the other characters more-or-less ignore, as if they aren't even aware he's around. (There is a short sequence in the second issue where, Hal's narration tells us, Plas is best suited to combat in the "imaginal" realm of the mind that has become the setting, as he is used to immediately, effortlessly transforming himself, and thus, better than any of the heroes understands "the fine line between mind and manifestation"; this was a good eight months or so before Kelley would make a similar point about Plas' imaginative, almost instinctive transformations making him perfectly-suited to a shape-changing battle with a Martian at the climax of the "Trial By Fire" arc in JLA).

Otherwise, DeMatteis really could have just used Superman, Batman, Kyle and maybe Martian Manhunter here and the story wouldn't change much, aside from maybe being a bit shorter and tighter. This is, really, the story of how Batman finally came to accept Hal Jordan as a hero again after the events of "Emerald Twilight" and Zero Hour and nearly a decade of being a relentless critic of the Justice Leaguer-turned murderous supervillain-turned Spirit of Vengeance Redemption.

That's the bit I want to focus on here.

But first, let me briefly summarize the story that DeMatteis embeds Batman's finally coming around within.

Earth is being invaded by alien giant monsters, and the Justice League is trying to fight them off. The twist here is that the alien invaders aren't from outer space, but rather from deep within the minds of humanity, somehow manifesting from within the consciousness of the population and, at times, taking god-like shapes pulled from the collective unconscious. They also have a rather unfortunate name: The Trans.

The Spectre is joining the League in their fight, in the most literal way possible. He meditates for a few pages on the nature of Superman's character and then, as The Trans are dissolving The Man of Steel, he steps in and fuses with him, becoming a giant Spectre/Superman hybrid that blasts the Trans monster away with eyebeams.

He then moves on to Batman and the sequence repeats. A two-page spread shows the process also occurs with Aquaman, Green Lantern and Wonder Woman...sort of. In the case of Diana, Hal doesn't directly fuse with her, and seems to either empower a bunch of Amazon warriors, or perhaps divide into several green-cloaked Amazons...? The art, which is usually strong and clear, can't explain exactly what's happening here like DeMatteis' Hal narration can. It makes me curious if the writer or DC were somehow reluctant to have Hal-as-Spectre take on a female form, if only for a panel here...

In a meeting around the table in the Watchtower, Batman suggests all nine of them "merge with the Spectre--creating an amalgam being capable of defeating these trans-creatures." (I wonder if DeMatteis would have used that particular word were it not for the DC/Marvel crossover event, and instead went with "hybrid" or "composite" or "gestalt"...? At any rate, it was a safe bet that superhero readers were by this point quite familiar with the word "amalgam"...)

The resultant amalgam being is pretty dumb-looking, calling to mind Marvel Comics' and Combos' Combo Man. 

Though that's good for a few pages, Martian Manhunter finally realizes the Trans can't be beat on the physical plane. A little investigation into memories of a world the invaders have conquered later, The Spectre instructs Superman and Flash to build a device with eight beds at super-speed, and then The Spectre will temporarily kinds sorta kill the League, allowing them to fight the Trans on their true turf, "the realm of pure consciousness."

"Physical force is useless in this...soul-war we're fighting," J'onn says, saying the title of the comic book out loud.

That's the end of the first issue. The second begins with our heroes in the new setting, where each of them is immediately seduced by potential paradises of their minds' own making. We get glimpses of some of these, but not what it is that makes Batman...or, at least, his consciousness or soul or whatever, which is here shaped just like Batman, smile and cry at the same time ("What Batman saw...what he created out of his buried wounds and longings...is not for me to share," Hal narrates). 

Batman is able to shake these fantasies off, though. There are many, many pages of battle in this mental plane, but the Trans eventually takes everyone out of the fight...except for Batman, who argues with them by fighting them, and eventually seems to win, punching them out. (This is very much a Batman-is-the-best kind of story).

When the Trans are seemingly defeated, The Spectre finds that the machinery keeping the League in suspended animation has been sabotaged by a human agent of the Trans (a TV psychic introduced in the first four pages of the series) and, to bring them all back to life, he has to sacrifice his "existence"; this means the League awakens while Hal is drifting in a "non-place" towards complete oblivion.

The heroes won't let this occur to Hal, though, and J'onn suggests that since humanity's belief in the League helped them defeat the Trans (somehow, I can't claim that I picked up everything DeMatteis was laying down here), perhaps their belief in Hal can now save him. 

So with the TV psychic, an actual medium who was able to channel The Trans, they all sit around the meeting table and hold hands, a ring-generated crystal ball that Kyle created to be "a focal point for our collective unconscious" in the middle of the table.

Here Banks' imagery is evocative of Mike Sekowsky's iconic cover of 1963's Justice League of America #21, depicting the original Justice League seeming to conjure the Justice Society in a seance around a crystal ball. (Which was certainly no accident).

The plan seems to be working for a few panels, but then stops, and when Aquaman demands of the psychic to explain why, she sadly says there was a "weak link among you....one mind, one heart that didn't believe."

Wonder Woman and J'onn look immediately to Batman, who Banks draws standing up, his hands flat on the table, shadow completely obscuring his face, even the white triangles of his eyes.

Batman explains:

I can't give--what I don't have. 

The Hal I knew and respected--the Hal I called friend...died--a long time ago. 

Let him stay dead. 

Just as J'onn begins to argue that the fate awaiting Hal is now far worse than death, Batman screams in pain, as something Hal had implanted in his brain and called a "parting gift" earlier in the story is activated. Batman begins to rationalize what he's seeing, but a voice tells him that the pain is the result of his own resistance, and that his heart knows what he's seeing is true.

The voice is that of his mother, and his parents appear before him (Although Banks draws Thomas Wayne clean-shaven, so maybe it's not them...or maybe there are no mustaches in Heaven, I don't know).

Martha Wayne explains that the vision Batman saw of them in "imaginal space" earlier, that deepest desire that Hal said in narration he couldn't share with the readers on Batman's behalf, was a trick, which is why Batman was able to see through it and save the League from their own individual false paradises, but that this vision really was real, The Spectre answering Batman's "deepest prayers."

Rising from the floor after the episode, Batman demands everyone circle around the table, join hands and try again, and this time he shouts into empty space at The Spectre. I'll quote it at length here:

If we can't reach him--it's because Hal is still clinging to his guilt and shame!

It's because he believes he DESERVES an eternity of non-existence! Well, I don't Jordan! I don't!

Listen to me, Hal--I was wrong about you!

You were the best, the brightest, among us! And when you fell--it...rattled me--and it made me wonder:

If a man as good and decent as you could go wrong...what hope was there for the rest of us?

But I see now--that one of the reasons you were reborn as The Spectre--was to give all of us hope! I see now--that you're more of a hero than ever!

And it works. Hal reappears, and Batman takes his old friend's hand, saying he meant every word of what he said, and ending with "Welcome home."

It's not the last word of the comic. The Flash says "Whaddya know? Bats is smiling! Almost." And Hal's narration concludes with "And 'Almost'... ...is good enough for me." 

But it might as well be. For all the weird-ass gobbledygook on the mental plane or within "the imaginal" or wherever this soul war was fought, this is the real development of the story, DeMatteis—and DC—finally resolving the enmity between Batman and Hal that has defined their relationship for about a decade, from the end of Hal's life to his afterlife. 

Re-reading this scene today, I'm curious if Geoff Johns had read this series or not. Most obviously, Johns' 2004 Green Lantern: Rebirth included a big, blunt, clumsy retcon that more or less excused the atrocities Hal committed as Parallax (the whole possessed by a space god thing) and, if I recall correctly, he even added a twist in explaining why it was The Spectre had bonded with Hal. 

In the process, Johns retroactively changed, or perhaps a better term would be that he overwrote, the work of previous writers of Hal Jordan going back years, including that of Ron Marz, Dan Jurgens and others. Because Johns kept writing Hal and Green Lantern books for so long though, and did so much work on the mythology (mythology I suspect was cut short by the New 52 reboot that he himself had kinda sorta initiated with Flashpoint), I think it ultimately worked, proving a clever way to thread the needle of Hal's journey from hero to villain to hero again make sense, for all of Marz's Hal stories to remain canonical but to let the character off the hook for his heel turn. 

But I wonder how it might have affected DeMatteis' work on the character as The Spectre. (As I've said before, I didn't read most of that series, and the issues I did I did mostly because Norm Breyfogle had drawn them). 

At the very least, Soul War doesn't seem to have factored into Johns' take on Hal Jordan, as Johns went right back to writing Batman as being highly suspicious, even hostile toward Hal. 

Of course, Soul War, like a lot of those JLA spin-offs I kept compulsively buying, has never actually been collected into trade which, I've increasingly begun to think, could be an indication of whether or not DC considers a story canonical, or, at least, how important the publisher might regard a story. 

I suppose that may change at some point, it's not hard to imagine DeMatteis' Spectre getting its own omnibus for example, but for now at least, this is a story only available to those who were reading DC Comics in 2003...and those, I suppose, who can find it in back issue bins or on Amazon. 

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 I wanted to share two particular images from this story with you before I go. 

First, when The Spectre joins the League around their meeting table in the first issue, he is fairly giant, towering above them all.  Batman sasses him—"Do you think you could possibly come down to our level--or are you just too far above us?"—and Hal apologizes, shrinking and changing from his Spectre form into that of Hal Jordan.

Notably, here Hal is still looking more middle-aged than his peers, and he's wearing that dumb bomber jacket that I hate. 

My hatred of it is perhaps irrational, and might just tie to the fact that I dislike Hal Jordan as a character but, I don't know. It just seems to give off this Baby Boomer, divorced dad, mid-life crisis vibe to me. Maybe that's not fair—Hal is, or was, literally a pilot after all—but rather than looking cool, it's always struck me as lame but trying too hard to look cool. 

I've long associated the jacket with Geoff Johns—I think he had Hal start wearing his dad's jacket after his dad died in a plane crash?—so I was kind of surprised to see it here. Was DeMatteis (and/or Banks, I suppose) the first to put Hal in such a jacket? Was it present throughout that volume of The Spectre? Or was Hal wearing it back when he was still Green Lantern the first time?

I don't know. But I still think it looks lame. 

My favorite image from the whole adventure is also from the first issue. When The Spectre imports the League into his own psyche, where they investigate Hal's memory of an alien world that has already fallen to the Trans, they are attacked.

Hal is being taken by the Trans, and Batman leaps to his rescue, at one point reaching up to grab the giant Spectre by the cape and shake him awake.

I don't know, I just like that image of a tiny little Batman shaking a giant by the lapels...

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Is this my last post on The Spectre for a while...? Maybe! I confess that while writing this, I read a synopsis of the first issues of DeMatteis' Spectre, which featured guest-appearances by Batman, Superman and Zauriel, and now I'm curious to revisit those. Reading JLA #35 and the interactions between Hal-as-The-Spectre and Zauriel did make me curious about their relationship.

 I think I have them in a longbox somewhere...

On 1999's JLA #35

I can't remember being annoyed by September of 1999's JLA #35 being the work of a guest-team, bumping writer Grant Morrison and artists Howard Porter or John Dell and forestalling Morrison's ongoing Justice League story for a month.

Maybe that was because, at that point, we JLA readers had been acclimated to issues from guest creators. 

For example, January's #27 was from guest-creators Mark Millar and Mark Pajarillo (that was the JLA and the reserves vs. Amazon done-in-one, a sort of spotlight on The Atom). That was followed by Morrison, Porter and Dell's four-part "Crisis Times Five" (the JLA/JSA/Captain Marvel story arc). And then we got two more issues from fill-in teams, with Mark Waid, Devin Grayson, Pajarillo and Walden Wong handling JLA # 32 (in which the team investigates the "No Man's Land" situation in Gotham) and the same creative team (minus Grayson) also handling JLA #33 (in which the team investigates a faux Bruce Wayne). The "regular" team was back for #34 (in which Green Lantern gets swept up in a prison riot at Belle Reeve), but it was beginning to look like we were getting at least one fill-in issue between each complete story by Morrison and company. 

It might also have been because that September's Day of Judgment event felt so much like a JLA story that I felt like I was getting more JLA that month, not less. (Batman, Superman, Green Lantern and Zauriel played big-ish roles in the main Day of Judgment series, while Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman also appeared).

Looking back now though, JLA #35 looks like a rather unwelcome interruption of Morrison and company's Justice League epic. In issue #34, "The Ant and the Avalanche", New Gods tell the League the long-foreshadowed apocalyptic threat is finally arriving, and the cliffhanger ending reveals that Lex Luthor, the villain of 1997-1998's "Rock of Ages" arc, has now aligned himself with Prometheus, the villain who single-handedly took on and took down the newer, bigger Justice League in 1998's JLA #16 and #17. 

What could these two be up to, and who else might be on the "new Injustice Gang" Prometheus mentions...? How might it tie into the prophesied threat? Readers in 1999 had to wait not one but two months, not getting a resolution to that cliffhanger the following month, but instead a story by J.M. DeMatteis and Pajarillo about Hal Jordan, a character who had never appeared in this particular title, and how he was dealing with being the new host of The Spectre. (The side-quest nature of this story is particularly apparent when encountered in a collection of JLA today;I re-read it in a library-borrowed, 2000 collection entitled JLA: World War III, where it is sandwiched between the aforementioned "The Ant and the Avalanche" and the five-part "World War III" arc, the latter of which was both the climax and the finale of Morrison's run). 

According to comics.org, DeMatteis and Pajarillo's JLA #35 was released on September 29, 1999, the very same Wednesday that Day of Judgment #5 and Day of Judgment Secret Files and Origins were released. So, depending on which order one read them in that week, this is either the first or second appearance of Hal Jordan as The Spectre following the events of the main Day of Judgment series (And though the cover of this issue brands it as a Day of Judgment tie-in, it is, according to a footnote, set after the events of the series, so, like the Secret Files and Origins special, this too is a sort of epilogue). 

The story, entitled "The Guilty", opens with a two-page sequence in which "the camera" seems to be zooming in from a longshot of a city street from far above, down to a troubled man in a yellow shirt and blue pants in front of a toy store, all the other people passing by depicted only as silhouettes. Green narration boxes make it clear that the words in them are supposed to be the thoughts of Hal Jordan, and that he is, apparently, the man in the yellow shirt.

I wouldn't have recognized him, honestly. He looks far younger than he did in Day of Judgment, his build is thinner, and colorist Pat Garrahy gives him a very light brown hair, far lighter than he usually has. Honestly, he looks more like Ralph Dibny than Hal Jordan. Given the events of the story, though, this could be either Pajarillo and Garrahy rendering him a bit off-model, or it could be intentional.

Anyway, as the suffering Jordan narrates about how he can't stop being flooded with darkness and evil, he finally cries out in anguish, assuming the form of The Spectre, a white-skinned giant wearing not just the customary green hooded cape and gloves, but also a green mask evocative of Jordan's old Green Lantern uniform (As is hinted at on Porter's cover at the top of the post, the design for the new Hal Jordan-as-The Spectre hybridizes Hal's Green Lantern outfit with The Spectre's get-up).

Suddenly, the JLA's resident angel Zauriel swoops down to look Hal in the eye, his flaming sword already drawn:

Is there a problem?

Your howl of grief across the ethers--drew me here through the sheer force of your thought. 

It slowly dawns on Hal that he knows Zauriel—they met in Purgatory in Day of Judgment, and, prior to that, a time-travelling Jordan from the past met Zauriel in the 1998 "Emerald Knights" arc Green Lantern, but I'll be damned if I can remember if Past Hal kept his memories of this adventure in his future, or if they were power-ringed away before he got sent back, so as not to screw with the timeline (As far as I know, "Emerald Knights" is also the first time Hal Jordan actually met Plastic Man, too, but I may be wrong on that; do correct me if I am). 

Hal's dialogue, presented in green-tinted dialogue bubbles with lines suggesting fire, meant to imply The Spectre's spookier-than-human voice, makes it quite clear he's struggling with being bonded to The Spectre-Force. The new Spectre and Zauriel go back and forth a bit about the latter having forsaken Heaven for life on Earth, with The Spectre seemingly intent on punishing Zauriel for doing so.

Then a bunch of Leaguer's appear, Superman saying "That'll be enough, Hal--" to presage their dramatic appearance. Assembled here are Superman, Martian Manhunter, Batman, Green Lantern and Plastic Man. Together with Zauriel, they would make up the half-dozen Leaguers who are featured in this story.

It's an interesting mix, as Superman, Batman and J'onn have known Hal about as long as anyone and served on Leagues with him before. Zauriel is there for obvious plot purposes, standing as he does between Earth and the divine realm that birthed The Spectre. Green Lantern Kyle Rayner has a complicated history with Hal, having had to repeatedly fight him while also trying to live up to his legacy ("Emerald Knights" is one of the relatively few times Kyle and Hal shared a story where they weren't fighting, actually). And as for Plastic Man, well, his particular past is salient for one scene DeMatteis writes later.

Among the other eight Leaguers, Aquaman, Wonder Woman and then-Flash Wally West might seem conspicuously absent, given Aquaman co-founded the League and served on it for years with Hal, while Wally and Wondy were his colleagues on Justice Leagues during the multi-Leagues "International" era between the end of the Giffen/DeMatteis era and the start of JLA. (Remember, in post-Crisis, pre-Infinite Crisis continuity, Wonder Woman wasn't a founding Leaguer, nor even in Man's World throughout the entirety of the Satellite Era). 

During a brief argument with Superman, the still-giant Spectre returns to a human form, and then tumbles out of the sky, eliciting a fun panel in which J'onn, Kyle and Plas all shout "I'll get him!", but Superman beat them all to the catch, thanks to his super-speed. 

To their shock, they don't recognize the man in Supeman's arms at all. "If Hal Jordan is the new Spectre--" Plas starts, before Batman finishes his sentence, "Then WHO is THIS?"

Taking the unrecognizable Hal back to the Watchtower, the narration makes it clear that not only do none of them recognize him as Hal Jordan, but he appears completely differently in the eyes of each of them (Pajarillo helpfully draws six completely different-looking men the same yellow shirt in a series of panels; one of them, the one Plas sees, is a Black man). 

Zauriel interrupts the questioning, takes a good hard look at the man he sees, and then explains:

Our inability to recognize him-- is part of the ordained plan for The Spectre's mission on Earth. 

Jordan is dead...The world believes him dead...and though he's been given the semblance of a human form, no one-- --not even those who knew him best-- will recognize him now.

Though Zauriel somehow seems to fix that for his fellow Leaguers, he stresses that this is just temporary, and that "For reasons known only to The Presence," Zauriel's name for God, once Hal leaves the Watchtower, the Leaguers will only remember him as The Spectre, not as Hal Jordan-as-The Spectre. 

I didn't like this development when I initially read this comic. Not only did it seem to violate one of the established "rules" of The Spectre that I had previously read about—everyone seemed to recognize the dead Jim Corrigan as Jim Corrigan when he was The Spectre—it seemed counter-productive. What, after all, was the point of making the long-lived DC character Hal Jordan the new Spectre if DC was only going to obscure that identity from everyone in the DCU anyway? Would stories of Hal Jordan possessing The Spectre's god-like powers in the modern DCU be all that interesting if only the writers writing his adventures and the readers reading them knew who he actually was?

It seems like DeMatteis must have changed his mind about it too...if this aspect was his idea, and not an editorial edict. About a year and a half after this issue was published, DC would launch a new volume of The Spectre, with DeMatteis writing it. (I wonder now if DC and DeMatteis knew the latter would be writing the series at this point or not.) But by 2003's JLA/Spectre: Soul War two-part mini-series, the League all knew that Hal was The Spectre again. 

Hal resumes his Spectre form, and there's a bit of debate among the assembled men. Superman tells Hal he's a good man, while Batman argues, "As far as I'm concerned, Jordan stopped being a "good man" when he turned on the guardians. When he killed-- and kept on killing."

Hal again discusses how his new, supernatural senses are overwhelming him:

If only you could see--what I see! What this...thing I share consciousness with makes me see: The demons! The guilt!

Humanity's shame and sorrow! It's festering jealousy--and murderous rage!

After Plastic Man interrupts him—"Let me get this straight: Before you were dead--now you're the all-powerful Spectre--and you're kvetching about it?"—we get to the heart of the comic.

"All men--no matter how pure they may appear--are guilty!" Hal says, spreading his cape like a matador. "Every soul on Earth is a potential target of The Spectre's divine wrath!"

Superman scoffs, saying he doesn't, he can't subscribe to such a philosophy, at which point Hal-as-The Spectre starts using his powers to illustrate his points, giving Pajarillo lots of intense imagery to work with. He shows them the time Superman executed the Phantom Zone criminals, the instance in which he actually took a life—there's no asterisk or footnote, but I believe this happened during John Byrnes run, right?—and how guilty Superman felt about it.

Batman cuts in, and then The Spectre turns on him, noting how many people have suffered due to Batman's arrogance, and that there's a small part of Batman that wants to kill his enemies, one he may eventually act on—should The Spectre attack Batman now, or wait until he's crossed that line? (Batman's refusal to ever kill, even the likes of The Joker, makes him maybe a poor example to subject to The Spectre's scrutiny; I wonder if it might have been better for DeMatteis to use the harsher, more violent Huntress, or perhaps warrior characters like Wonder Woman or Aquaman, although, to be honest, I don't recall if any of those three had actually killed anyone by this point; I feel like Peter David had depicted Aquaman killing at least one alien invader earlier in his run, but I'm no longer positive.)

Hal goes on to accuse Kyle of fearing being corrupted by his power and lashes out at Zauriel when he again mentions The Presence.

It is at this point, Plastic Man joins the conversation, transforming into an easy chair and sweeping Hal off his feet with a "Siddown a minute!"

As a Plastic Man fan, I should note that DeMatteis does a pretty fine job of the character in a sequence of less than a half-dozen panels. While Morrison had an even-handed, nuanced approach to Plastic Man as a true hero despite his jokes, in general, most of the other writers to handle the JLA during Morrison's run just played Plas as a source of usually lame jokes, his shape-shifting abilities employed to contort him into visual punchlines. 

(For one example of Morrison's take on Plastic Man from the very collection I am reading this issue in, in the first chapter of "World War III", Zauriel said that Heaven has decided Earth will surely end during this particular threat, and that the angels are already planning the architecture of a new universe. Plastic Man's head turns into that of a chicken, and notes that if Heaven has given up, maybe he and Zauriel should as well, to which Zauriel responds, "I haven't given up...and neither will you when it comes to it, Plastic Man." He's right! They both play their parts in saving Earth and the universe from the new Injustice Gang and Mageddon.)

Plastic Man explains that he too had been in the position Hal has been in, a bad guy who was seemingly killed and then got super-powers (Although there's an obvious difference in scale, here; Eel O'Brien, as his surname is spelled here, was a rather cartoonish gangster pulling robberies and heists, while Hal was an honest-to-God cosmic supervillain with a considerable body count who, at one point, unraveled all of time in space in order to recreate it in his own image). 

"Believe me, when the fates offered me a second chance--I took it!" Plas says. "But did I mope and moan about it? Nuh-uh! I decided to have fun with it! If I was gonna live my life over, it was gonna be--YOWCH!"

Pajarillo's art is a little confusing here—I'm sure the script couldn't have been all that clear, given what's going on—but Hal interrupts Plastic Man by ripping open the back of his head, where he finds Eel hiding:

You hide behind a mask of arrogance and flippancy--

--but there is another face that lies behind that vapid grin! A man who preyed on the weaknesses of others! An all too common criminal--

--named "Eel" O'Brien!

Again, pretty sure it's spelled "O'Brian," but whatever. The Spectre's beat is evil, sin and vengeance, not spelling.

Here we get a glimpse into Plas' mind, wherein he reveals that he faces "the darkness" of his soul constantly, that he knows every rotten thing he's ever done and been face-to-face with his own guilt, but that he likes his "mask of frivolity." And, when he finally meets his maker, as Hal phrases it? "I'll take my chances that he's just a tetch more forgiving than you are!" Plas says.

Hal seems to really lose his shit at this, at which point J'onn loses his, screaming "Enough!" in big, bold red letters "both verbally and telepathically".

Using his powers, J'onn transports all seven of them to a scary-looking plane of fire and stalagmites and weird architecture. 

"Back in Hell?" Kyle asks; he and Superman having just been there in Day of Judgment. "After a fashion," Zauriel replies. He seems to be the only one who knows where J'onn has taken them—mentally, if not physically—although Batman figures it out a moment before Hal does, and before DeMatteis and Pajarillo reveal it to us.

After a four-page fight through a bewildering hellscape, they meet an extremely ordinary-looking middle-aged man and his wife, sitting in easy chairs and listening to a radio show in a cramped cave. An aggressive Hal confronts the man and is shocked to see that "the scared light" shines within him. 

Who is this guy, and where are they?

The place was The Joker's mind, and that guy was the light of God within The Joker.

Here's J'onn's explanation of what they all just saw:

Do you see, Hal? Even there--in the most corrupted of human souls--

--lies a spark, however small, seeking hope, seeking love-- and yes--

--redemption.

...

Perhaps you've been projecting your own guilt, for your own transgressions--real and imagined--onto everyone else.

You're not seeing us, Hal. You're seeing yourself reflected back at you--through the prism of the Spectre's wrath. 

...

I learned, long ago, not to underestimate the human race... and their capacity to rise above their limitations. 

Too bad about that "ordained plan" that means everyone will be unable to recognize Hal Jordan now that he's The Spectre, or else maybe Martian Manhunter could have continued to counsel him in his new career, and his efforts to wrestle the Spirit of Vengeance into a Spirit of Redemption. 

On the last page, The Spectre grows giant again, and he floats through the ceiling out into space, saying that the men he's leaving are "still the best friends-- --I ever had." Presumably he was speaking just of J'onn, Superman and Batman, as he, like, just met Zauriel and Plastic Man, and his relationship with Kyle seems...well, "friends" doesn't seem like the right word at this point in their personal history, does it?

As for the League though, they've already forgotten him, as Kyle gets the last word among them. "Sure hope we helped him--," he says, "--whoever he was."

The last image in the book is of Hal-as-The Spectre, impossibly gigantic and semi-transparent, seeming to hold the Earth itself in his hands, as he ends his narration with something I don't think we see regularly in super-comics: A prayer.

"Lord.. ...let me be worthy," he thinks. 

After this issue, the League goes on to face Mageddon in "World War III" in the pages of JLA, after which writer Mark Waid would take the reins from Morrison (and Zauriel would fade into very occasional guest-star status). Waid would, in one of his handful of arcs, get into Plas' head in a way similar to what DeMatteis did here, with the hero lamenting his life of crime and facing the temptation to steal again once Plastic Man and Eel O'Brian are split into two separate people. 

While I wasn't particularly annoyed by this book back in 1999, I don't think I appreciated its virtues, either. I don't know that it's necessarily the best Hal Jordan story or anything, but in just 22 pages, it does manage to fit interesting portrayals of Zauriel, Plastic Man and Martian Manhunter. 

DC Versus Marvel Omnibus Pt. 14: Batman & Spider-Man #1

Two years after their initial meeting in Spider-Man and Batman, the two heroes would re-team once again in an adventure from returning writer J.M. DeMatteis. While that first team-up was drawn by an artist primarily known as a Spider-Man artist (Mark Bagley), this second one would be drawn by an artist primarily known as a Batman artist, the great Graham Nolan, here inked by Karl Kesel. 

By 1997, Nolan had already had a healthy run on Detective Comics (a chunk of which was finally collected in 2020's Batman: Knight Out) and penciled the original graphic novel The Joker: Devil Advocate, working with writer Chuck Dixon on both. He had also, again with Dixon, co-created the villain Bane in the pages of 1993's one-shot special Batman: Vengeance of Bane. 

Teenage Caleb held great esteem for Nolan's work, particularly that during the Tec run, as Nolan's take on the Batman character and his world seemed to strike a precise, perfect balance between the sturdy realism of Jim Aparo and the dynamic, expressionism of Norm Breyfogle.

By the end of the decade, though, Nolan's work with DC, which included a Bane vs. Ra's al Ghul limited series and the extremely weird JLA Versus Predator, seemed to peter out. I had often wondered what had happened to him (it turns out he turned his attention to drawing a couple of legacy newspaper strips) and was quite happy to get new work from him when he and Dixon reunited for the 12-part series Bane: Conquest in 2017. 

A few years later, I looked him up on what was then still Twitter, found him and followed him...and then quickly realized one of the reasons he doesn't seem to be getting much high-profile work in the modern comics industry equivalent to his level of talent. In rapid succession he posted a couple of tweets that I found politically objectionable, including ones hash-tagging or seemingly speaking positively of Comicsgate, of all things. (Nolan is also on an "unofficial listing" of creators who support Comicsgate on comicsgate.org.)

And then I saw his name listed here among comics professionals who participated in a livestream reacting negatively to Superman's son Jonathan Kent coming out as bisexual and DC updating Superman's World War II-era slogan of "Truth, Justice and the American Way" to "Truth, Justice and a Better Tomorrow." (For what it's worth, I like the original just fine and always imagined it to refer to the ideals America as a nation supposedly represented and strove to embody, not an endorsement of the country's often reprehensible actions like, you know, invading Iraq or electing Donald Trump...twice). 

Now obviously Comicsgate is...not company a responsible professional should be keeping, regardless of their political views. But reprehensible views are, I guess, something else that Nolan has in common with his frequent collaborator Dixon, and so I suppose it's unsurprising we're not seeing him drawing Batman or Superman these days. (He seems to be keeping himself busy self-publishing crowd-funded books through his Compass Comics, which he claims are free of the "moralizing and political messages so prevalent at the 'big two' publishers.")

While it is understandable why publishers and other professionals wouldn't want to work with anyone in the Comicsgate orbit, and it is understandable why readers wouldn't want to support creators who hold intolerant beliefs (I know I wouldn't want to buy, say, a new Dixon/Nolan comic today), it doesn't change the fact that Graham Nolan is a hell of an artist, a fact attested to by this very story.

In it, he not only does his usual fine job of drawing Batman and the Dark Knight's perennial foes Ra's al Ghul and Talia, Nolan also gives us a great Spider-Man, one who looks and moves like a classic iteration, evoking the work of John Romita Sr, one of the probably two artists who defined the character's look (The other, of course, being his creator Steve Ditko).

Nolan also draws the Kingpin, who is the Spider-Man villain used in the story. And DeMatteis makes pretty great use out of him here, too. What seems to unite the villains in this particular crossover is their nature as master schemers and plotters, each seeming to exert an impressive degree of control over their particular kingdoms, only really differing in the scale of their ambitions. 

Kingpin, of course, wants to—and sometimes does—rule over all crime in New York City, if not the entire city itself. Ra's' criminal enterprise is global in scale, and he has his sights set on ruling the entire world.

This similarity, and this difference, is at the core of DeMatteis' story, which, more so than anything else, is a great character study of the Kingpin: The lengths he will go to save the woman he loves, the way his mind works and where he draws the line when it comes to his own super-villainy. 

You may remember—if you have a particularly good memory, anyway—that when I was writing about these two heroes during my discussion of their first pairing, I noted the similarity in the types of stories told about each, as they tended to spend the issues of their comic book series defending their home cities from the machinations of their big and colorful rogues galleries. 

I even explicitly said they don't generally engage in globe-trotting adventures, or those in which the fate of the whole world is at stake. 

Well, guess what? 

This story, entitled "New Age Dawning" is an exception. Parts of the story are set in Gotham, New York City, Paris and Tibet, our heroes ultimately travelling to the distant roof of the world just in time to stop Ra's and Kingpin from pressing the button on a doomsday machine that will wipe NYC off the map and ready the world for Ra's' assumption of its complete control.

As I said, while it reads like a character portrait of Kingpin Wilson Fisk, it also scans an awful lot like a Batman story, particularly one of the many in which he faces Ra's al Ghul and the villain's plans to save the world and its environment by drastically, violently reducing its population. 

Although instead of Robin and/or Nightwing around to give Batman someone to banter with, here it's Spidey.

The story opens with a narration-heavy sequence in which a wild-eyed, wild-haired television evangelist preaches about the sorry state of the world—earthquake, flood, a bombing in Jerusalem—as signs that we are entering the end times. And though he plays the role of a Christian evangelist, he doesn't really evoke Christianity, but an unnamed, secular savior of some sort. "There's only one hope for us," he says. "Only one man who can save us from the firestorm that's coming. Look up, children of sin! Look up-- --and see the savior." 

Jesus? 

No. 

The scene then shifts to that would-be savior, dwelling in a hidden, paradisical city nestled in the mountains of Tibet. He is shown praying before an altar filled with candles and the icons of several different religions (a crucifix among them), while his concerned daughter looks on, unseen.

This is, of course, Ra's al Ghul.

Meanwhile, our other villain, Wilson Fisk, is introduced in Paris, where he confronts his apparently estranged love, Vanessa, and embraces her in a kiss.

And as for our heroes? 

Well, Spidey is introduced suiting up and leaving his wife Mary Jane to study while he goes out crime-fighting. (Nolan somewhat surprisingly draws her remarkably less busty than the bombshell version of the character that was more prevalent in the '90s; here her design more closely resembles that of Mark Bagley's Ultimate Mary Jane). Spidey busts up an arms deal that he assumes must be Fisk's work, although readers will note the demon's head symbol tattooed on one of the gunmen's palms. 

And as for Batman, he swings through a rainy Gotham sky to meet his kinda sorta lover/mortal enemy Talia, who tells him she has business in America, but wanted to drop by and see him. Then she sics a bunch of ninjas on him. ("You knew those men would never stand a chance against me," Batman tells her. "I...had to at least go through the motions of an assassination attempt," she replies.)

With all of the players introduced, it is now time to commence with the crossing-over. Talia and Fisk talk business in his penthouse office. Apparently, Fisk has been working for her and her mysterious employer for some months now, and though he suspects them of being a terrorist organization, as long as they leave their "madness" out of his country and his city, he doesn't mind. Talia pointedly corrects him that the real aim of her organization is not terror, but "resurrection", a word that briefly stops Fisk and elicits a shocked expression from him, given what his wife is going through.

As will soon be revealed, Vanessa is apparently dying of cancer—I obviously have no idea how this squares with the events of the regular Spider-Man and Daredevil comics of the time. Fisk is uninterested in Ra's al Ghul's plans, laid out in a few pages of dialogue that jumps from a conversation between Talia and Fisk to another of Batman and Spider-Man. 

This time around those plans involve using special devices that control the weather and tectonic plates to sink the island of Manhattan and cause other such disasters until Ra's emerges from the apocalyptic chaos to "offer redemption to a sick and dying world." 

Again, Fisk is uninterested, but Talia has a very strong closing offer for tailored to him.

"My father has the power to cure your wife's cancer," she tells him. 

During their meetings, Batman has been spying on the pair, and he is eventually interrupted by the arrival of Spider-Man ("I wondered when you'd show up," he says to Spidey over his shoulder without looking at him.) 

Batman is just as reluctant to work with Spider-Man this time as he was last time, and when the web-slinger puts his hand on Batman's shoulder while talking to him, the Dark Knight snatches him by the wrist and twists it. Spidey throws him across the rooftop, Batman landing on his feet and striking a cool, Mazzucchelli-inspired pose in the mist.

This is the only real fighting the two do, ultimately shaking hands again and deciding to work together. Nolan does a particularly good job of contrasting the two heroes, two characters whose basic designs are so far apart from one another, with the sleek, colorful Spider-Man a head or so shorter than the big, black triangularly shaped Batman. 

Faced with the inevitability of Vanessa's death, Fisk eventually makes a deal with Ra's, and Talia delivers he and his ailing wife to the Tibetan stronghold. There, Ra's makes clear his plans for the world and Fisk's place in them, holding the cure for Vanessa's cancer—in actuality, a cancer-like disease that Ra's engineered in his laboratories specifically to infect her—over him as irresistible leverage.

In order to make him prove his loyalty, Ra's insists that Fisk be the one to push the button that will destroy New York.

That is, of course, where Spider-Man and Batman come in. They have chased the villains to Tibet in some rather charmingly silly disguises and, after they are waylaid by Ra's forces along the way, they must travel the snowy wastes with parkas over their costumes, with Batman at one point riding piggy-back as Spidey climbs the sheer face of a mountain cliff.

To say much at all about the ending would risk spoiling a clever and effective twist, but it's safe to say that New York City is not destroyed and Ra's does not take over the world. Even Vanessa's life is saved. 

DeMatteis does a fine job of portraying all of the various and varied characters, including their at-times complex roles, like Spider-Man working to save Vanessa even if it means helping the Kingpin, and Talia's moral ambiguity, as she vacillates between working for and against her father...and against but sometimes with Batman.

The last panel, a half-page splash of the two heroes in a moon-filled big city night sky together, is the very stuff these crossovers are made for, as both look perfectly like themselves and perfectly strange appearing side by side like this, but also, under Nolan and Kesel's pens and Gloria Vasquez's colors, also seeming to belong together.

This would be the final crossover in which this particular pair would appear together, and, in fact, this was Spidey's last standalone DC/Marvel crossover. Both Batman and Kingpin would appear one more time in the DC Versus Marvel Omnibus collection though, in 2000's Batman/Daredevil: King of New York #1, by Alan Grant and Eduardo Barreto.

Next: 1999's Superman/Fantastic Four #1

DC Versus Marvel Omnibus Pt. 9: Spider-Man and Batman #1

By the fall of 1995, DC and Marvel had collaborated on about a half dozen crossover comics, and yet somehow two of their most popular had yet to meet: Batman and Spider-Man.

They would rectify that the 48-page one-shot Spider-Man and Batman #1 and, if you're wondering why Marvel's webslinger gets top-billing, just wait; they will re-team two years later in another one-shot, this one titled Batman & Spider-Man #1.

These two make for a much more drastic contrast than did Superman and Spider-Man, who teamed-up in the publishers' first two crossovers, both aesthetically and as characters. Additionally, although Spidey obviously out-powers Batman by a great deal, the pair tend to be engaged in adventures of a similar scale in their solo adventures, tackling villains from a wide and recurring rogues gallery in defense of their home cities, rather than being regularly involved in globe-trotting, space travel or world-saving. 

Doing the honors for this particular outing was writer J.M DeMatteis and pencil artist Mark Bagley, the latter inked by Scott Hana and Mark Farmer.

DeMatteis was no stranger to either character. He had written runs on both The Spectacular Spider-Man and The Amazing Spider-Man and, while he had less experience with Batman, he did write the 1995 "Going Sane" arc of Legends of the Dark Knight and had of course written the Caped Crusader during his five-year run with Keith Giffen on DC's Justice League titles. 

Bagley, meanwhile, was and is primarily known as a Spider-Man artist. By 1995 he had drawn The Amazing Spider-Man, Venom: Lethal Protector, contributed to the "Maximum Carnage" and "Clone Saga" stories and co-created popular symbiote-derived villain Carnage. He had never drawn Batman before this particular assignment, though.

Their story "Disordered Minds", which gets a "Stan Lee Presents" atop it on the title pages, zeroes in on two commonalities between the two heroes.

First, both were victims of gun violence. 

Young Bruce Wayne's parents were, of course, shot to death before his eyes when he was still a child, the inciting incident that led him to devote himself to crime-fighting and ultimately become Batman. Meanwhile, shortly after a teenage Peter Parker gained his miraculous spider-powers, his beloved Uncle Ben was gunned down by a burglar. The event was made more tragic still when Parker realized the gunman was someone he had seen committing a crime earlier and could have stopped, but he had decided not to intervene. This too led to Spider-Man becoming a superhero.

DeMatteis replays both events as nightmares awakening first Peter Parker and then Bruce Wayne in the first pages of the book, in four-page sequences that repeat beat for beat for each hero, with each of them talking briefly to the loved one who shares their secret upon awakening (Mary Jane Watson for Peter, Alfred Pennyworth for Bruce), and then suiting up and going into action in their city, their superheroic figures revealed in a splash page by Bagley and company. 

I should here perhaps pause to note how weird it was for me seeing Bagley's adult versions of Peter Parker and MJ. Of course, I wasn't reading Spider-Man comics in the '90s; I'm sure they looked perfectly natural to Spider-Man fans in 1995. 

Me, my first exposure to Bagley's Spider-Man characters was from 2000's Ultimate Spider-Man, and I became quite familiar with his teenage version of the characters over the course of his long seven-year, 111-issue run with writer Brian Michael Bendis. So it was pretty jarring to see a tall, well-muscled (maybe over-muscled?) Peter Parker, with his John Romita Sr. hairstyle growing out into an almost-mullet, and an equally big, big-haired MJ. 

Even Bagley's Spidey looked a bit off to me, with more pronounced musculature and a head that, well, fit his body, rather than having the slightly-too big, extremely round, almost bug-like head of Bagley's Ultimate Spider-Man.

As for Bagley's Batman, it's fine. As mentioned previously, the character was by this time wearing his all-black, briefless costume, the one he'd wear from roughly the end of "KnightsEnd" and the beginning of "No Man's Land."

He's bigger, blockier and more imposing a figure than Spider-Man, although they are rarely standing side by side. Usually they are in action, and, even when they're talking to one another, Spider-Man might be clinging to a wall in a crouched position or jumping around. Bagley gives his Batman the big, pointy ears and the billowing black cape that were popular at the time. 

The other commonality between the two heroes that DeMatteis organizes his story around is the fact that they both have totally insane, unrepentant mass murderers in their respective rogues' galleries. Batman, of course, has The Joker (making his fourth appearance in the Omnibus), while Spider-Man has Carnage.

The latter is, in this story, being held in some sort of high-tech cage in the Ravencroft Institute, while psychotherapist Ashley Kafka tries to get through to him, with Spider-Man on hand in case anything goes wrong. Something does, of course, but a new player thinks she has a permanent solution to Carnage's bloodthirstiness. 

That player is Cassandra Briar, who has developed a "bio-technic cure for insanity", which involves implanting a computer chip in the subject's brain, a sort of high-tech lobotomy. It seems to work on Carnage, the symbiote seemingly withdrawing and going dormant within human host Cletus Kasady.

The next killer on her list is, obviously, The Joker. (Oddly, The Joker being temporarily cured of his insanity was also the premise of DeMatteis' LDK arc). It works just as well on the Clown Prince of Crime.

After Briar holds a Gotham City press conference showing off the now docile serial killers, Kasady suddenly reverts to his Carnage form, attacks her and kidnaps The Joker. Apparently his symbiote counteracted the implant right away, and he was just playing possum the whole time in a bid to get to meet and team-up with The Joker, whose body count he has long admired.

Batman and Spider-Man are both there when Carnage strikes, the former rather amusingly revealing himself by shedding a disguise he wore over his full costume, cape, pointy-eared cowl and all. Still, Carnage gets away, The Joker in tow. He'll soon use his symbiote powers to remove The Joker's chip, restoring him to his normal self as well.

Batman and Spider-Man don't get along at first, of course, with Batman rebuffing Spidey's offer to help with his usual lines about not wanting another hero operating in his city or getting in his way. (They don't come to blows though, so there's no answer as to who would win in a fight, Batman or Spider-Man...but it would probably be the super-powered Spider-Man, huh?).

After some time apart, Batman realizes his own rigorous research of Kasady is no substitute for Spider-Man's first-hand experience with the killer, and he relents and decides to team-up with the wallcrawler, even ferrying him about in the passenger seat of the Batmobile (Spidey makes a joke about how all the big heroes turn to him for help, saying "I keep waiting for Superman to call," which is perhaps funny given their team-ups in earlier crossovers, although those pre-Crisis comics likely weren't considered canonical in 1995.)

Meanwhile, Carnage and The Joker's relationship has the opposite trajectory. Carnage is eager to, as he says, "hook up with" The Joker, shaking his hand and enthusing, "You get the joke!...That life is utterly meaningless...totally absurd -- and madness is the only sane response!" But the two quickly realize they have different approaches to killing; The Joker suggests an elaborate mass-poisoning plot, while Carnage prefers violent, gory and immediate killing.

The Joker tells him, "I always thought of myself as the Orson Welles of crime and chaos" while dismissing Carnage as a David Hasselhoff, later revising his assessment to sub-Dolph Lundgren (These aren't the only celebrity names DeMatteis drops in the dialogue; earlier, he has Spider-Man say, "Kasady's more in love with the sound of his voice than Rush Limbaugh!"). They quickly turn on one another.

Their conflict doesn't last long, however, as Batman and Spider-Man arrive almost immediately—at just 48-pages, there's not a lot of time for the story to do anything other than rush forward—to take them down, with each trading archenemies. Batman (somewhat improbably, perhaps) defeats Carnage, simply beating him into unconsciousness, never having to resort to a gadget or gimmick. And Spider-Man corners The Joker and contemplates killing him as Batman has seemed to do in their every encounter since "A Death in the Family," but he ultimately just punches him out.

And that is that. 

Fast-paced, straightforward, and with little in the way of an agenda aside from getting the two heroes and their two villains in the same story, it's an effective, if not terribly ambitious, entry in the now steadily humming ongoing DC/Marvel collaboration. 

During a two-page denouement, the two characters shake hands and then pose for a last-page splash, while DeMatteis' melodramatic narration tells us that, "Under the light of the Gotham moon, a friendship is born -- and even if these men never meet again... ...it is a friendship that will survive... And thrive... ...as long as the legends of Spider-Man and The Batman... endure."

They will, of course, meet again, as was previously mentioned. That wouldn't be for a couple more years though and, in the meantime, DC and Marvel would produce two more crossover specials—oddly, both featuring the Silver Surfer—as well as their big crossover event series, 1996's DC Versus Marvel.

Next: 1996's Green Lantern/Silver Surfer: Unholy Alliances #1

Review: Emperor Joker

If you're reading this collection of the millennial Superman line story arc of the same name, which comprised two issues of each of the then extant four Superman books, plus an over-sized one-shot, then you already know the basic premise, as the title Emperor Joker and the crown and ermine wearing Bat-villain is right there on the cover.

The story would have been a bit more mysterious as it originally played out, however, as the first four issues merely presented the reader with a world gone mad. A semi-amnesiac Superman, now wearing a black costume and some serious five o'clock shadow, escapes from Arkham Asylum every night, using his scaled-back powers to try to figure out what's gone wrong with the world around him. And every night the leader of the JLA, Bizarro #1—a pure, undiluted, unapologetic version of the Silver Age Bizarro—fights and re-captures Superman, bringing him back to Arkham.

In this world, there's no Lex Luthor, but a bald, Lois Lane is Metropolis' maniacal, super-villain industrialist. Jimmy Olsen is Bizarro #1's pal and sidekick, Gravedigger Lad, enthusiastically tending The Graveyard of Solitude. Supergirl is a nun in a convent that worships Alfred E. Neuman, Superboy flips burgers at a fast food restaurant run by The Guardian and Steel is an asylum for scientists.

The JLA's lunar watchtower is where Bizarro meets with a group of "heroes" who look and sound more like villains—Bounty, Ignition, Scorch, Poisonous Ivy, Skizm and, um, Gorgeous Gilly—while the old Justice League are criminals appearing in strange, cartoonish forms (Martian Manhunter is more like the Martian from the Looney Tunes cartoons, for example).

The Justice League, by either Duncan Rouleau or Carlo Barberi; I'm leaning toward Rouleau.

No one's heard of a Batman, but every night the blood-curdling screams of someone dying horribly can be heard, and Mr. Mxyzptlk is somehow mixed-up in all of it, although he's not responsible.

The only real clue as to what the hell was going on for the four-issue prologue were the covers, which featured various members of the Superman family and various villains of the story arc in a playing card design, echoing that of the cover of the collection.

That and, of course, the fact that Superman finds himself incarcerated in Arkham, I suppose.

What the hell is going on is this: Mr Mxyzptlk had the bright idea to recruit The Joker to help him mess with Superman, intending only to grant him a tiny fraction of his Fifth Dimensional magic powers, but accidentally giving him all but a tiny fraction, so that The Joker was able to reshape the entire universe as he saw fit, with only a few tiny flaws in his now omnipotent mastery of the universe (Like the fact that Mxyzptlk is still around to offer exposition, that Superman has an indomitable will and the ability to inspire those around him and that The Joker just can't bring himself to do away with Batman, choosing instead to have him horribly killed every night...and then resurrected to wash, rinse and repeat).

I returned to the storyline just recently, inspired to revisit some previous Joker vs. The DC Universe storylines by my reading of the recent The Joker: The Death of The Family collection. It holds up pretty well, but, like all such story arcs involving so many of the always-moving pieces of a Big Two superhero universe, it's very much a product of its time, reflective of rather particular versions of the many characters (versions that have gone through a good half-dozen changes in the 13 years since it was originally published serially) and of the particular talents and publishing strategy of the DC Comics of the time.

Ed McGuinness, a quintessential Superman artist, able to rather seamlessly fuse modern, stylistic sensibilities with the stripped-down, simple designs of the Superman characters, and a real master at drawing big, beefy looking characters that nevertheless seem to bounce, float and fly weightlessly, draws the opening chapter and a later 22-page chunk of the story, as well as providing five of the nine  covers.

As this was a story that ran "triangle"-style through the Superman books and in a special, there are an awful lot of artists involved, with Mike Miller, Kano and Doug Mahnke handling the bulk of the non-McGuinness pencils, and Duncan Rouleau, Todd Nauck, Carlo Barberi and Scott McDaniel pitching in as well. It's a wide variety of artists, but it's not too hard to see them all bunched rather close together on the spectrum of cartoony, manga-influenced superhero art, with Mahnke's more realistic style being the greatest outlier—although it's worth remembers that Mahnke is a pretty consumate drawer of superhero comedy, as he's demonstrated in the short-lived Major Bummer and that Hitman/Lobo one-shot, and he acquits himself nicely here.

The writers involved were those of teh Superman line at the time: Jeph Loeb, Joe Kelly, J.M. DeMatteis and Mark Schultz.  The style of the scripting, not unlike the style of the art, shifts widely from chapter to chapter, but this being the "graphic novel" about a madman given the power to warp any and every aspect of reality to suit his whim, that's hardly the drawback it would have been in other works.

This Joker, like that in Last Laugh (and unlike the one in Death of The Family), is presented as a dark cartoon character, always making jokes and, indeed, here making the world one full of his jokes, and the sense of humor on display tends to feel pretty flat and forced, seeing that it is forced, the various writers all trying to write funny. Or, more specifically, Joker funny. As far as humor goes, it seems to work best where Bizarro is concerned, as the opposite talk with ever-shifting rules is such a perfect comic book gag, akin to the backwards spells of Zatanna or, more appropriate here, Mxyzptlk's return trip spell.

Ed McGuinness, obviously.

Mahnke's artwork brings much of the humor that is here to the fore too, whether it's really going to town filling in backgrounds with his idea of "crazy" imagery (which is a lot more twisted under his more realistic style than in that of the others)...

...or the manical expression on Bizarro's face...

or the wide-eyed surprise on that of our hero...

As a superhero story, I suspect this might have rather sharply divided readers at the time, as it so prominently includes two aspects of the Superman mythos that some readers seem to be somewhat embarrassed by—Mxy and Bizarro—and, hell, even some DC creators seem embarrassed by them. Note chief creative officer Geoff Johns' repeated attempts to present us with a scary version of the backwards-Superman, like the monster threatening a school bus full of children in the opening arc of  his short Action Comics run, or the brutal killer version that beat The Human Bomb to death with his bare hands in Infinite Crisis #1, or the Frankenstein-like, New 52 version currently receiving an origin in the pages of Forever Evil (On the other hand, Johns did do a pretty fun story with Eric Powell in "Escape From Bizarro World," in which he presented the more traditional version of the character).

As for me, those are my two favorite Superman adversaries.

The day is eventually, ultimately saved, in a scene that would be echoed in Paul Cornell's Action Comics story arc "The Black Ring" a decade or so later, with Superman facing a Joker with the god-like powers to do almost anything, and the hero managing to exploit that single weakness, allowing the villain to defeat himself (In "Black Ring," of course, it was an omnipotent Luthor who was facing Superman at the story's climax, rather than the omnipotent Joker).

What's impressive about it is the way the writers start with Superman and then draw a circular, spinning, curlycue-ing line out from that point, until their story isn't just one of Superman fighting a Batman villain, but a story that involves all of Metropolis, all of the world, all of the DC Universe (By story's end, "The Quintessence," Darkseid and The Spectre are also involved, in addition to all of the heroes and villains and supporting characters already mentioned. Oh, and there are even some cameos like those in the panel below).

See Pandora? Swamp Thing was part of  the DC Universe as late as 2000.

While the New 52 ultimately wiped this and these versions of all the characters out of continuity, the story was also noteworthy for a time in presenting the origin of the post-Crisis Bizarro that lasted the longest and most resembled the pre-Crisis Bizarro (prior to this, the in-continuity Bizarros were merely short-lived, failed cloning experiments conducted by Luthor) and for adding a few new minor characters to the DCU, in Ignition (who would play a role in a future Superman storyline) and Scorch (who would be involved in both future Superman stories and a significant portion of Joe Kelly's JLA run, when she dates Martian Manhunter, helps him overcome his aversion to flame, and accidentally unleashes Fernus).

It was at least well-liked enough to generate this trade collection, and to have inspired an episode of The Batman: The Brave and The Bold, in which The Joker gets 5D imp Bat-Mite's powers and uses them to kill Batman over and over, albeit it in more cartoon friendly ways. That is, nothing as grisly as the scene in this story in which Batman is eaten alive by vultures, tastefully shown just off-panel. It's actually kind of strange to see the restraint in scenes like this...

Kano

...given all the gore of the DCU of just a few years later.

There's even a scene where Jimmy Olsen apparently kills "Krypto" (Superman in the form of an ordinary dog that looks like Krypto) with a shovel, that not only happened off-panel (we don't see the shovel strike the dog, just the sound of the shovel hitting the ground), but then it's edited in a way that doesn't really make any sense, as if DC were trying to soften the act of killing a dog with a shovel.

I actually can't really make out what happened:

The falling fire hydrant seems to imply The Joker smooshed Superman-as-Krypto with his magic powers, but the dialogue refers only to Jimmy killing Superman-as-Krypto.

But back to the book at hand: Not bad, and a great example of Superman as the center of the DC Universe, in addition to being its greatest hero.

Trades I Waited For (Pt 3): Booster Gold: Past Imperfect

I’ve often wondered why the Booster Gold character is popular, if it was because of some element of creator Dan Jurgens’ inspirations for the character and his initial run on the 1986-launched, 25-issue-long series, or if it was because of Keith Giffen and DeMatteis’ re-creation of the character as a central part of their ensemble Justice League cast from the late eighties and early nineties.

Okay, “often” is overselling it. I’ve actually only wondered about it like once or twice, when DC handed the last volume of the series over to him after the Geoff Johns/Jeff Katz run that kicked off the new title, and returned it to him after the brief Giffen/DeMatteis run, the first half of which comprises the contents of Booster Gold: Past Imperfect.

(More often I’ve wondered why the hell the character is named “Booster Gold.” I still don’t know).

This trade seemed to offer an opportunity to at least examine the different takes, as it featured the writing team perhaps most popularly associated with the character scripting his adventures on what is essentially the Jurgens’ version of the character’s book (Remember, Jurgens runs bookend Giffen/DeMatteis’ here, and this is at least semi-serious Booster Gold as solo adventurer, not part of a wacky ensemble).

DC found a pretty perfect collaborator for the writing team with Chris Batista, who shares many of the same virtues and their most famous artistic collaborator, Kevin Maguire, without actually being Kevin Maguire, allowing him to strike a better balance between the Bw-ha-ha and straight Booster a bit better than Maguire might have been able too.

Not that Maguire is absent, of course; he provided the covers for the first five issues, including these two, which I really liked:Giffen and Maguire open with Booster doing the sort of thing he does now, visiting a point in DCU history in order to perform a task for Rip Hunter, Time Master (here he’s at the destruction of Daxam in the 30th Century…which is part of “The Great Darkness Saga” or some Legion thing I’ve never read, I think) where he battles the Emerald Empress and picks up an adorable orphaned moppet, who provides a verbal sparring partner for Rip.

From there, much of the book involves Booster’s efforts to prove to the world that the post-Brightest Day Maxwell Lord is actually an evil son of a bitch who wants to exterminate super-humanity, but, as in Justice League: Generation Lost, only he and a few old teammates remember Lord or his evil deeds.

So Booster goes back in time to the days of the JLI seeking proof, and ends up getting extremely sidetracked hanging out with his friends.

Unsurprisingly, Giffen and DeMatteis excel at these portions, and they continue to effortlessly write these characters and revisit old routines. Few characters and concepts are as well-suited to such blatant nostalgia as Booster Gold, a character whose current status quo is that he can travel back to the good old days at will.

Among the many running gags they fill the storyline with is that everyone immediately sees through Booster’s attempt to disguise himself as his own younger self in order to infiltrate the JLI, and while there’s a decent chunk of time spent featuring Booster bouncing around the embassy and revisiting the cast, a tangent adventure is quickly embarked upon, and Booster and the past era’s Blue Beetle, Mr. Miracle and Big Barda visit an alien planet for an adventure, and Giffen and DeMatteis pull off a neat trick of giving the audience what we think we want, except one of the characters is now a chipmunk…?After the JLI storyline, Booster travels back to World War II in order to team up with another old JLI character, Captain America parody General Glory.

It’s all fast-paced, fun, funny stuff, and while I can see who Giffen and DeMatteis’ quirks might not be to everyone’s tastes (I don’t think all of their gags land, but they tell enough that it hardly matters whether even 75% of them are funny or not; rare is a whole page without a successful gag), it tasted fine to me.

I look forward to the next collection, which I imagine will finish up the remaining five issues of their run on the book.