By: Bryan Q. Miller (story), Jamal Igle (pencils), Marc Deering (inks), Carrie Strachan (colors)
The Story: Batman discovers it’s a little harder to flip-drop Superman than other folks.
The Review: Last month, I went through a strange, almost revelatory moment with the title, where I realized that no matter how much I or Miller or anybody else wanted it to replace the show we watched semi-diligently, it never would. Comics, particularly ones involving superheroes, are all about indulgences, taking fictional liberties and playing up the action. For a drama and talk-centered series like Smallville, comics don’t always translate its appeal.
Remember how often and how much of the show used to involve two-character scenes, with long, windy streams of dialogue (and lots of talking while turning away from the other person). Fighting sequences were limited by budget constraints, but that made the personal storylines more integral to the show. Miller has almost reversed the action-drama ratios here, and that produces an “episode” that doesn’t much resemble those of its televised predecessor.
This could all boil down to Miller’s humorous treatment of the series. As someone who fancies himself a humor writer, I appreciate each joke and gag individually, but collectively, they often seem too much in the least suitable places. You have Superman interrogating Bruno Manheim up in the sky, and meanwhile there’s a comedy bit every few panels. Whether it comes as physical shtick (dropping Bruno, allowing Batman and Nightwing to watch him freefall from the windshield of their hovercraft) or inappropriately lighthearted, even random, banter:
“[Joe Chill’s] a murderer, Bruno,” Superman says tersely.
“So am I,” Bruno points out. “So’s Vinnie Rockets. We’ve got a guy named Torque on speed dial. Murders like crazy. His head’s on backwards. Damndest thing.”
Again, there’s nothing hackish about Miller’s writing, but it just doesn’t sound like the Smallville you used to watch. Your only choice is to accept this title as a different beast altogether if you want to fully enjoy it on its own merits. Imagine the title as a parallel world from both current DC continuity and the Smallville universe, where Steph—I mean, Babs—can actually teach Bruce a few things.
“Aren’t you always telling me, ‘It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission’?” he asks her.
“We’ve agreed that’s what will be on my tombstone, yes.”
But even in a different world, Miller shouldn’t dumb down iconic characters, and at one point in this issue he does so, and so egregiously it almost made me drop the title that minute. I find it bizarre and even a little offensive that Clark can discover Batman’s true identity that nonchalantly—especially since Nightwing later remarks on Bruce using a “whiskey-and-cigarettes-and-razor-blades” thing with his voice. More than that, why would Batman not only confirm Clark’s discovery, but reveal an even more personal piece of information—and then later to a villain?
It’s been a while since my last Igle-drawn comic. His relaxed style works very well with Miller’s humor, although he doesn’t succeed in injecting any more seriousness where Miller’s script lacks it. The pressure-cooker pace of this digital-first series forces all artists to be a little sloppy, and many panels, especially the smaller ones, look a bit slipshod. Otherwise, Igle provides a tighter line than I remember, resulting in a solid-looking issue.
Conclusion: It’ll never be the Smallville you once knew, but perhaps it was unreasonable to expect it to be so. As its own series, it provides some reliable entertainment, but nothing to indicate a classic in the making.
Grade: B-
– Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: – I actually love Lex’s “Enhance” joke. 24 has set too high a bar for our expectations of visual imaging technology, hasn’t it?