By Harry Kassen — Welcome back to Comics Anatomy. It’s been a while since I’ve written one of these, so thank you for bearing with me. As a way of making it up to you — and as a way of celebrating the first year (!) of Comics Anatomy — I will be writing monthly articles in a three -art series to close out the year. Now, anyone who knows me or follows me on Twitter may have guessed it was only a matter of time before I wrote an article about a Batman comic. The theme for the rest of 2019 is going to be 21st Century Batman runs. This article will be about King’s Batman. The next one will be about a part of the Snyder/Capullo run, and the third will be from Morrison’s run.

The specific subject of this article is Batman #12, part four of the I Am Suicide arc, by Tom King, Mikel Janin, Hugo Petrus, June Chung, and Clayton Cowles.

Editor’s Note: This is a re-post of a piece originally posted on Oct. 31, 2019.

My relationship to this issue is interesting. I actually own two signed copies of this one. I read Batman in trade, so I wasn’t caught up when it came out, and I wasn’t planning on buying it. I saw online though, that Midtown Comics was having a signing with Tom King, and I wanted to go. There were rules that said I had to buy the new issue of Batman (#12) and that you could only get three things signed, including Batman. I had more things I wanted signed, so I grabbed a friend and called my mom and headed over. I got a bunch of cool stuff signed (first ever signed Vision Vol. 2!), and put the Batman #12 copies on the side. When the paperback came out, I read it and felt attached to this issue in particular. It wasn’t until I started putting my thoughts into written form for what would become this article (about two years ago) that I realized it was the same one I got signed.

Now for the analysis. This issue is constructed in a really interesting way, but discussing it is going to require me to bend the format of this feature slightly. I’ll establish the main argument, but then I’m going to just walk through the issue as a whole, page by page.

What I want to look at in this issue is the way that motion is shown and the pacing of the comic. Janin has a sort of visual trope that shows up in a lot of his work where he draws many versions of a character set against a static background to show movement. It happens in Janin’s brief stint on Superman (see below), in his run on Grayson, and throughout his work on Batman.

This issue uses that technique in a particularly interesting way, however, and really pushes it to its limits. This issue is interestingly composed almost entirely of two page spreads or widescreen layouts (layouts in which the two pages are treated as one “wide screen” as opposed to two separate narrative spaces), with only the first and last page, of necessity, being single page layouts. These pages are splash pages, playing into the same general aesthetic as the rest of the issue.

What this creates for the issue is a sense of continuous movement. To get a sense of what I mean, I’d like to point to another comic that uses this same technique even more explicitly — The Six Million Dollar Man: Fall of Man #3 by Van Jensen, Ron Salas, Mike Atiyeh, and Taylor Esposito. This is a really cool comic. The basic premise is that Steve Austin has to fight his way to the front of a train, but the interesting part is that the entire issue is one continuous image. The first page is the back of the train and then it progresses page by page all the way to the front of the train (see below). As you read the issue, there’s a sense that you’re just constantly moving from Point A to Point B in a relatively straight line. The way Batman #12 is laid out creates a similar effect.

When I reached out to Van Jensen to ask for the image above, he told me that he and Tom King are friends and that when this issue of Six Million Dollar Man came out, King approached him and said “You asshole, I can't believe you thought of that train issue. I'm stealing it for Batman.” I initially had no clue there was that direct line from Six Million Dollar Man to this Batman comic, but it certainly makes sense. While there’s a similar sense of constant forward movement, however, the Batman issue constructs that sense in a different way. Six Million Dollar Man uses the visual of the train to create it. Batman has a much looser structure. Batman simply starts on the left side of the two-page spread and ends up on the right.

For a more detailed analysis, I’m just going to walk through it page by page. For those who have not read Batman #12, I will advise you that I’m going to discuss plot elements in some detail, as I feel it’s important to understanding the visuals of the issue and the impact they have. If you’re going to be upset by the spoilers, stop here and read the comic first.

Page 1: This is the first page of the issue. We’ve got Batman in a classic superhero pose, looking grim. He’s about to start his infiltration of Bane’s fortress. We’ve got two kinds of text on this page. There are radio balloons that are Bane’s voice challenging Batman to get to the center of the castle. This sets up Batman’s task in the issue. He needs to fight his way to the heart of the prison. Classic action movie set-up. The other text is the beginning of a letter from Bruce to Selina. This is important to the series for many reasons, but in this issue it serves as a sort of voiceover for the action. The parallels in pacing between that letter and the moments being portrayed are important. In this page, the letter is saying that it is time for Bruce and Selina to set all other things aside and acknowledge what they are, which is what will be detailed in the rest of the letter.

Pages 2-3: This is the first example in this issue of that technique I mentioned earlier, where Janin creates a single background image and places multiple versions of the character across it to show movement. The continuity from the last page into this one is really strong because the first Batman on the page is in the same position as the Batman on Page 1. There’s no time between Pages 1 and 2. As he moves across these two pages, he fights henchmen and dodges bullets. The action itself is pretty straightforward, with some visual interest created by adding a fisheye effect to the page, as though we’re watching security footage. It’s pure, archetypical Batman. Which makes the work that the narration/letter is doing all the more interesting. On these pages it tells us about how his parents would have laughed at him as Batman. It says they didn’t laugh often, but that’s how he remembers them. The visuals and the text follow the same pattern in these two pages, working together to lead the eye down the hallway.

Pages 4-5: This page uses a similar layout to the first, with one large background across the whole two-page spread, but there’s a row of inset panels running across the top of the image here. In these extreme closeup panels, Batman’s punching soldiers as he runs down the hall. In the main image, all the soldiers are unconscious and Batman has cleared the hall. Because of where your eye falls when you turn the page, however, you read those insets first. That’s a powerful effect. It zooms in on the violence and then zooms out to show the aftermath, which isn’t something we get in the previous page. This is where the issue starts establishing Batman as something akin to a force of nature. He plows through these soldiers and is unfazed, and we get nothing from him in the moment. Just the letter. In this portion of that letter, Bruce is explaining what Batman, this force of nature we’re watching, really is. He says it’s a laughable idea that doesn’t make a lot of sense, and that he’s really still just a kid pretending to be an adult pretending to be Batman. He closes this page by repeating the oath he made as a child, clearly citing it as over the top and melodramatic. At this point he’s deeply skeptical of Batman as a concept. The placement of the narration helps to reinforce the reading order of the panels.

Pages 6-7: This page is an incredible set piece that also has some really interesting storytelling elements. It’s yet another example of Janin setting multiple drawings of Batman against a static background. On this page we have Batman making his way from the corner of the prison up to the top of the central tower, fighting guards as he goes, and then stopping at the top. This page is another example of the narrative pulling back. It’s very zoomed out from a literal, visual perspective. The narration is openly mocking Batman now. Bruce calls it stupid and immature. The caption boxes on this page do an interesting thing, though. They don’t follow Batman across the page like they have in the past. They start by following him, but then break off and follow the path of a seagull heading to the bottom right corner of the page. This does two things: it sets the expectation of where Batman’s headed next (i.e. the water in the bottom right of the page) and it shows a path away from the fight that the bird can take but Batman can’t. He’s looking out at the world beyond his war on crime, but he can’t get away from it, so he steels himself to dive back in.

Pages 8-9: Here’s that dive. We’ve got another full two-page background image, except this time it’s divided into nine panels by rays that come down from the top right corner of the image. Two of these panels have narration but no Batman. Two have Batman but no narration. This page is the turn. As he dives off of the tower, from the position he was in on the last page, the narration has Bruce saying that he doesn’t laugh at the very idea of Batman. On his way down, he reflects on all the people who would laugh at Batman and says he’s okay with it. They can do that. He hits the water in the next panel and we lose sight of him. Bruce, in the letter, says that Catwoman wouldn’t laugh. She knows something about him. We pick Batman back up in the next panel, but the narration drops out for two panels. In the first of these “silent” panels, Batman is swimming toward us. It looks like he may be making his escape, but then in the next one, he turns back. In the final panel of the page, he has turned all the way around, heading back to the prison. That’s a part of who he is. The letter says that Catwoman knows what Batman is. At this point it’s been established that Batman isn’t noble, but he’s not funny either.

Pages 10-11: This page is really interesting. It shows Batman emerging from the water to fight more guards, but it does it all in first person. There are six panels, all with narration, that show various stages of Batman bursting out of the water and knocking out all of the guards on a platform. This is once again Batman the force of nature, tearing through large numbers of soldiers without much resistance, but we’re no longer watching from outside. We are Batman, and the words on the page are now ours. The letter becomes more personal and we can connect to it further. The narration here talks about what happened to Bruce immediately after the murder of his parents. He tells us he was nothing but pain. There was nothing but pain inside him and if it wasn’t productive; he thought it should just be gone.

Pages 12-13: [CW: attempted suicide, depression] On this page we have another instance of a single background image with multiple copies of Batman placed across it. In this one, Batman fights his way through a sea of henchmen. He cuts a straight path from top left to bottom right, helpfully leading your eye across the page. The narration has built to the most personal moment yet. Bruce is revealing that he attempted suicide when he was ten, following the deaths of his parents. He didn’t die then, but he says he saw something. He saw that everyone in Gotham was in the same place, suffering, on their knees, begging for something to change things. He says he dropped the razor blade and realized that he had given up his life. The oath that he ridiculed earlier. It’s not noble, and it’s not a joke. It’s a death. Bruce Wayne died then, so Batman could live. And juxtaposed against the image of Batman fighting his way through a room packed with armed men with grim efficiency, coupled with all of the images we’ve had of Batman as this inhuman, impersonal force, driving his way into the heart of the castle, that revelation is heartbreaking.

Pages 14-15: This page is what everything up to this point has been building toward. Batman’s been moving constantly, fighting and climbing and running, all leading to here. It’s an aerial shot of Batman crouching down, surrounded by all of the unconscious soldiers he knocked out. We once again see the aftermath of Batman. And with all of that motion, unstoppable, unchecked, leading up to this moment, the complete stillness of this image has a visceral impact. Batman is alone surrounded by the effects of his war on crime. And the narration backs up this idea. He finally reveals what he’s been getting at. Batman isn’t funny. Batman is the living embodiment of the death of Bruce Wayne. Once this realization has been made though, what comes next? That’s what this page asks. Every page since the first has shown exactly what comes next. Batman’s moving, and he’s going to keep moving. Here, he’s still, in the center of the page, no indication of where he’s going next.

Pages 16-17: This answers that last question. We know now that Batman is suicide. That’s what we’ve been told. But what does that mean for Batman? We can see from this page that it doesn’t mean giving up, as some people might expect. Batman is the death of Bruce Wayne, and for that reason he can’t give up. He can’t let that death be for nothing. And the art reinforces that fact. Getting up isn’t just another motion. It’s meaningful. Purposeful. The four images of Batman on the left side of the page show him getting up slowly, by degrees. You read these first, watching him stand. Then you get to the image on the right where he starts to move again. The narration reinforces this too. The captions are placed to lead your eye down the left and then over to the right. The content of this portion of the letter is Batman telling Catwoman that she helps him keep going. They’re the same and they understand each other, and because of that they don’t have to be alone.

Pages 18-19: We’re nearing the end of the issue now and Batman’s made it to his goal. Bane, Psycho Pirate, Catwoman. This spread takes a shot-reverse-shot style and switches between showing Batman making his way across the room and the three villains by the throne. The main panels are the Batman ones, and the others are set into the page. Batman can barely stand at this point but he still fends off the guards easily. The narration is a promise to Catwoman. He says he will free her because he knows they are the same. We hear the determination in the letter, and we see it as he fights across the throne room. He’s stumbling as he walks in, but by the last panel he’s the same determined Batman he was at the beginning of the issue. He can’t be human. He has to be Batman. We hear Bane’s voice again now. He says that Batman is defeated, but that’s clearly not how Batman sees it.

Page 20: This is the last page. Batman’s on his knees, Bane sitting above him on his throne, flanked by Catwoman and Psycho Pirate. Bane still challenges Batman, asking what comes next. Batman, despite his determination, is kneeling in front of Bane’s throne. He has fought all this time and never given up, but what does that get him? He’s been fighting all along, but does that help him win? The letter seems to think that he will win and that he and Catwoman will be able to get away from all of it and laugh together. The issue ends here, though, so we don’t get an answer.

Thanks for reading Comics Anatomy. I’ll be back next month to continue my celebration of my first year by discussing Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s Batman run. See you then.

Read Batman, Vol. 2: I Am Suicide (Rebirth): Physically / Digitally

Check out past editions of Harry Kassen’s Comics Anatomy!

Harry Kassen is a college student and avid comic book reader. When he’s not doing schoolwork or reading comics, he’s probably sleeping. Catch his thoughts on comics, food, and other things on Twitter @leekassen.