Ghost of the Killer Skies - Detective Comics #404

About 5 years ago, I was watching Witchboard with my wife when my phone started blowing up.

"Who keeps calling?" she asked.

It was two people who never called me: my best friend Aharon "AJ" Klum's soon-to-be-ex-wife, and another of our mutual friends. After each call came the texts: PLEASE CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU CAN.

"Aren't you going to answer?"

Neither the ex or Chris ever really called me all that often, or ever. "If they're calling this much, something bad happened," I said. "Whatever it is will still be bad when the movie's over, and I can't do anything about it from Chicago. Let's just finish the movie."

At this time, our firstborn was about a year-and-a-half, and our second was two months old. No one was sleeping much, but that Sunday, both of them were asleep, allowing Dawn and I the chance to watch the Witchboard DVD we'd had from Netflix for forever. These moments were few and far between and I was absolutely adamant: we were gonna do this. Had nothing to do with the movie or anything (Witchboard is hardly a do-not-disturb-upon-pain-of-death affair), just the window of opportunity was damn well not going to be compromised.

So I turned my phone off and staved off learning the inevitable for another hour or so. On October 19, 2014, the mysterious Mr. Klum breathed his last in this world. Caught the last train out, bought the farm, went to the clearing at the end of the path, swept out with the tide however you want to put it. He who was my companion through adventure and hardship was gone forever. 

Obviously one never gets completely over these things, and much more could be said. But let me skip over everything from that moment until just yesterday when a package arrived for me from AJ's mom. "Saw this, thought of you" was the note. The book:

Now I'm never unhappy to receive anything like this in the mail. (Would that every day had the unsolicited but warmly appreciated arrival of an Archive Edition of fantastic Kubert art.) But I was slightly perplexed. And then it all came back to me: I got AJ this! For some Christmas or birthday of yesteryear. He was over at my place sometime around 2000 or 2001, whenever it was, and I had a copy of Enemy Ace: War in Heaven (the one set in WW2) and he read it and liked it. So, always eager to expand my buddy's comic-book horizons or at least spruce up his bookshelves a little bit with some McMolo-approved reading material, I got him this edition. And here it was, showing up at my place, all these years later. 

Did he ever read it? I don't know. I doubt it, actually, but who knows? I know for sure he read the War in Heaven one, as I watched him do it and he referenced it a few times over the years as a movie he wanted to make. To the day he died Klum was talking about the movies he was going to make. No one chooses when, as Martin Blank once said, and things are left unfinished. That's life and death for you. 

So all of the above was going through my head and heart when I cracked this one open. Enemy Ace was never a comic I actively read, but I think Joe Kubert is one of the all time greats, and I like pretty much any WW1 dogfight story anyone is going to put in front of me. 

I knew the broad strokes already but had never read the actual stories (outside of the aforementioned War in Heaven by Garth Ennis and Chris Weston.) Here's how the wiki puts it:

"Enemy Ace centered around the adventures of a skilled but troubled German anti-hero and flying ace in World War I and World War II, Hans von Hammer, known to the world as "The Hammer of Hell". It featured detailed and accurate depictions of WWI air combat, as told from the German POV. Hans von Hammer was a man of honor and chivalry, a flying knight in his Fokker Dr.I, but he was haunted by his duties and the constant death surrounding him."

More details: Von Hammer does not fraternize with his fellow pilots. He never speaks to his orderly, who is forever adding medals and dogfight cups to his mantelpiece and commenting on how easily Von Hammer falls asleep after a day of killing in the skies. His only friend is a wolf in the Black Forest, a fellow loner and killing machine. (Later he gets a dog.) Almost every pilot he shoots down salutes him from his doomed aircraft before plummeting to earth. (You can expect at least one of these - usually all of them - to happen in a single issue.) 

Good stuff, right? It would make a great movie or series or something, especially if it ended with him in WW2 telling der fuhrer to go fornicate with himself like in War In Heaven. (Although ideally, he'd be killed by his long-time nemesis, The Hangman, a French fighter pilot in WW1, and not in WW2.) The whole thing is about grace in defeat, honor in death. No one chooses when. Kudos to Joe Kubert and Robert Kanigher for coming up with the character way back when. 

Long before I knew who Kanigher, Klum or Joe Kubert was, (although I guess I had some inkling of Kubert, though no direct familiarity with his work) I came across the Hammer of Hell in: 

as collected in The Greatest Batman Stories Ever Told. As mentioned elsewhere in these pages, that and its companion volume (The Greatest Joker Stories Ever Told) altered my bat-trajectory altogether. I shan't retread that ground, though, but I broke the story out again and man is it wonderful. I just felt like putting up a few panels and talking about it a bit. 

Bruce Wayne is producing a movie in Spain about the life of, you guessed it, Hans Von Hammer. Not only is he fascinated by the tales of the Baron, but he believes in the project and "the things it can say to audiences about the nature - and the folly - of war." 

It's unclear why he's in his Batman duds at this point.

Someone is sabotaging the production, and people keep dying. As Bruce talks the situation over with the director, the film's technical expert, Heinrich Franz, enters.

If you're thinking we just met the saboteur, you're absolutely correct. And after a few more deaths and misdirections, Batman comes face to face with the self-styled "Ghost of Von Hammer." Why is he doing this?

So this is about control of the legacy/ competing narrative frames. Naturally, it all ends with a duel in the sky.

Just as naturally, Batman may be receiving a little help from the Great Beyond.

God that last page is so great. And - I realize now but didn't then - a wonderfully Kubert-ian composition. All the kudoses and all the chapeaus to Messrs O'Neil and Adams. I was going to say it would all make a terrific movie. And it would, I'm sure, but it'd make an even better two-hour Special TV Event if they ever end up doing another Batman TV show. (And they should.) This'd be the episode they'd talk about all summer long and for all summers after.

Two last things: I never tire of stuff like this:

"El Hombre Murcielago!" Or, as he helpfully repeats in English below, "Man of the Bats."

And (2) may all the ghosts of our own killer skies, circling above, one day glide to a peaceful landing. Failing that, may they all guide our hands in aviating death-duels with the enemy. Amen and amen. 

Batman: 1970

Beginning! A series on:

The Bronze Age is that era of comic-book-making from 1970 to 1983 according to eBay or  1970 to 1985 according to wikipedia. According to me? It varies by title. (I'd be an irritating member of any panel to establish firm Bronze Age boundaries.) But 1970 is a good starting point. With the Batman, I'd say the Bronze Age lasts all the way to 1986 (The Dark Knight Returns.) But that's too much to cover. So for our purposes here, let's say 1970 to 1979.

Let's get things started with more preamble!

As mentioned elsewhere I had eyes only for Marvel for most of the 1980s. I associated DC with the Super-Friends cartoon and the Batman TV show, a show whose value as a primary source of 1960s Americana had yet to be rediscovered. It wasn't until the run-up to the Batman movie (1989, but the hype began in earnest in 1988) that I caught Bat-hysteria. I became interested in all-things-Caped-Crusader, which led me to picking up my first Batman comic:

There may have been a Bat-comic purchased before this, but this was the first one I consciously remember taking home with me.

Which made me considerably late to the party. But I then picked up Year One, Dark Knight, et al. and made up for lost time in my usual fashion. I also ended up getting two trades that radically altered my Bat-trajectory:

Covers by (l to r) Walt Simonson and Brian Bolland

It was in these collections that I discovered the world of pre-Crisis Batman. And realized I quite enjoyed it.

What was it about these stories / this iteration of the character that appealed to me? That's what I hope to discover doing this overview. I liked the supernatural-detective element of many of the stories, the fantastic art, and the more humanized Batman. (I mean, this guy smiled occasionally, had girlfriends, and he didn't want to murder Robin!) I came into Batman (and DC) completely green; literally all I knew was the post-Crisis stuff. 

As necessary - and if I remember - I'll make a note of whether or not we're discussing Earth-1 or 2 Batman. Assume Earth-1 as a default. It'll only really be an issue in the stories from the mid-to-late-70s, not so much for these first few blogs. Who cares, anyway! 

More than most characters, the Batman from each decade (prior to the 80s; since Miller, he's kept to the same, grim page) was a wholly different animal. Each era (including the present) has its particular delights. Let's briefly recap those before we get into the 70s. 

1940s: (Well, first appearance, Detective Comics #27, May 1939 - close enough) Bill Finger's and Bob Kane's Batman was very much of its time period as far as the storytelling and what not goes, but when future comics creators spoke of returning the character "to its roots," this is the decade / mood they consciously tried to invoke. Personally, I think the more time passes, the eerier all of Batman's earlier adventures seem. They've aged well - weirdly well.

1950s: In response to Frederic Wertham's batshit (ahem) the Batman of the 50s is perhaps the strangest animal of all. 

I don't read any currently published DC titles, but it's interesting to me that there's some renewed controversy over Kathy Kane aka Batwoman. She was introduced to the title as "a plainly obvious beard for Batman." Of this period, Grant Morrison writes in Supergods:

"What made (these) Batman-and-Batwoman-at-the-altar story lines even more bizarre (...) was Kathy Kane's mannish civilian identity as a circus-owning daredevil who wore jodhpurs and rode a motorcycle. Kathy Kane was Marlon Brando in drag (...) a weaponization of the Stepford Wife, the Avon Lady as a Special Forces commando: pixie boots, fringed leather gloves, high-gloss lipstick so red it was jet black and reflective.

"The Wayne-Kane era comes across in a welter of mind-warping, emotionally charged psychosexual hysteria. The two adults' cruel treatment and emotional manipulation of a clearly distressed Robin (...) motivated Les Daniels to observe 'If a comic book could actually turn people gay as Doctor Werham had suggested, this one might have the power to do it.'"

1960s: As the movie did for the youth of the late 80s, the Batman TV show inspired a wave of Bat-mania that transformed the comics completely. Campy stories were the order of the day.

Once the popularity of the show faded, Frank Robbins and Irv Novick (under the direction of legendary editor Julius Schwartz) jettisoned the camp altogether. Schwartz had already gotten rid of Batwoman (and Bat-hound and Bat-mite) and as the 60s wore on, Robin and Batgirl found themselves pushed out of the main stories and relegated to back-up features. (Batgirl's popularity kept her on the marquee.) It wasn't until Denny O'Neil and Neal Adams joined the creative team that this non-camp version of Batman finally clicked. Their version proved so popular (and so self-evident) that it was more or less copied (and copied pretty well) by the other Bat-teams in the Schwartz stable.

Another important development in the 60s: Bob Kane's contract with DC was renegotiated:

"(His) new contract with DC removed him from producing artwork for the title.  Now all Batman artists would receive credit.  Bob Brown and Irv Novick became the artists for Batman's new "Noir" look, as writers Mike Friedrich and Frank Robbins ushered in the era of the Darknight Detective."

His other co-creator, Bill Finger, had no such contract, which is why to this day some people still think of Batman as being wholly created by Bob Kane, a perception not exactly dissuaded by Kane himself. It's a long-ish story; the relevant take-away is that Bob Kane was kind of a dick to Bill Finger.

Reprints of the Kane/ Finger/ Jerry Robinson era would be a feature of Bat-titles for most of the 70s, of course, so we'll come across some in our travels.

I absolutely love this. I already forget why they needed to get on the penny farthings, but the fact that they are on them is fantastic.

Depending on your tolerance level for Golden/Silver Age storytelling, these are either a delight or a nuisance.

And this bring us to our era of consideration:

1970. Richard Nixon is the US President, and these guys -

are still together. (In name, anyway.) This particular issue (222, cover date June 1970) deals with the whole "Paul is Dead" thing.

This rumor was pretty popular at the time. I still get a kick out of the idea.

If you're interested only in what the best Bat-story of 1970 is, skip to the end, I won't mind. But if you'd like a more eccentric if not particularly informative tour of all of it, let's start things off with:

WORLD'S FINEST COMICS
(issues 191 - 197)

Everything about this cover (195) is awesome.

Although the series changed to a Superman-plus-guest-star format - only to revert to Superman and Batman again in later years - in 1970, World's Finest was Batman and Superman, published every month. (And the two characters seemed to get along a whole lot better back then.) World's Finest definitely houses the goofiest of Batman's adventures in 1970, but - again depending on your tolerance level for such things - they're a lot of fun.

It can be a bit of a shock to see Batman doing such comic-book-y things as traveling through time or to Krypton or what have you if you only know the post-Crisis version of the character.

Let's take a closer look at a two-parter from World's Finest 192 and 193. Superman picks up a distress call from Lubania, a country behind the Iron Curtain. His UN membership allows him to cross the borders of any country that belongs to the United Nations, but Lubania doesn't belong. So, knowing he might create an international incident, he tries to get in and out as quickly as possible. But as soon as he gets there, wham! Something steals his powers! Now he has to hoof it out on foot and evade the Lubanian secret police and army, who, of course, orchestrated both the distress call and the loss of powers via their synthetic Kryptonite beam.

Superman knows of a radio frequency monitored by the West, though, and calls in, hoping he'll get Batman... perfectly reasonable.

I love how the guy impersonating Batman over the radio dressed up like him to do so.

If you're thinking "Dude, why didn't you ask Supergirl or some other super-buddy who could fly in and fly out with no problems? Hell, how about the Flash?" I sympathize, truly, but those are the sort of questions a comics audience of the time wouldn't be concerned with. It'd be like asking an ancient Greek when Apollo's birthday is; non-sequitur.

Incidentally, is this falcon on the colonel's arm (Katchi) calling the shots? Must be. Look at his eyes and that calculating determination.

Awesome.

The trap is sprung. The secret police, dressed as Batman, comb the city.

Batman (who came in to look for him on his own accord - plot twist!) and Superman are captured and sentenced to hard labor at one of Lubania's "famed death camps."

But... they escape. ("Koslov's Pet?" Batman, that's their leader.)

Turns out, though, that the Superman and Batman who escape are decoys. The real plan was to get their double agents into the Pentagon to report back to Lubania.

Note to world: do not mess with Batman or Superman, or the US will re-organize its entire arsenal. Lubania is crafty. And able to synthesize Kryptonite.

 

Three guesses as to how it all turns out. (To the best of my knowledge, Katchi never returns to DC continuity - a pity.) World's Finest also reprinted older DC tales, some of which are a real historical curiosity, such as:

One final panel, simply because it amuses me that Robin is saying this aloud, below. I mean, to verbalize "T-E-E-N-W-O-N-D-E-R" in the span of one punch takes mad skills on the mic.

BATMAN 

(issues 218 - 227)

Mostly written by Frank Robbins and Denny O'Neil and mostly illustrated by Neal Adams. Adams' art is the real draw, here, even when it's being done by Irv Novick. 

Irv - and Bob Brown - both were told by editorial to "draw like Neal." No one minded, as, according to Neal anyway, this was just how people did it back then. All of them have had a lot to say on the subject, but we'll get to that in turn. Suffice it to say, Neal Adams was the gravitational center of comic book illustration in the early 70s even beyond the Bat-titles.

Again, they didn't shy away from giving Batman a supernatural-detective bent in these.

The stories are for the most part fun enough, but a little on the monster-of-the-week side. Or with silly resolutions. Not 60s-camp-silly, to be sure, but just little things like Batman stopping a hijacking by inflating a set of clothes and fooling the terrorists while he switches to Batman, etc. Or this oddity, for example:

I love this explanation / motivation. Batman is a man of many angles.

 

And as with his time travel in World's Finest, something like this Christmas tale might seem insurmountable to any who only know the grim Batman from later years:

But it wasn't too big a deal in 1970 for Batman to sing some carols with Commissioner Gordon and the boys down at the precinct. A Christmas story was more or less expected from any major superhero. 

If "This Murder Has Been Pre-Recorded" is not a movie title - and according to imdb, it doesn't appear to be - that's a low down dirty shame.

Here's a panel that is downright wonderful out-of-context:

It's fair to say that the stories in Batman 1970 are designed more for the casual reader, someone who might pick up an issue and want an entertaining adventure/ mystery but not necessarily want to invest in longer-form storytelling. This was the DC approach of the time, at any rate; it would change in the years to come. ("Make it more like Marvel" was more or less an editorial dictum around National Publications in the late 60s / 70s.)

DETECTIVE COMICS 

(issues 395 - 406)

Probably the best collection of Bat-stories from this year, although it shares the same self-contained-adventure approach as Batman, described above. But the creative team (Denny O'Neil, Frank Robbins, Gil Kane, Irv Novick, and Neal Adams) keeps things fun.

Most of the back-up stories deal with Robin (aka Dick Grayson) at Hudson University.

Leading to a lot of fish-out-of-water / generation gap/ groovy student protest type stories.

These back-ups alternate with

Batgirl was pretty cool back in the day. I never liked what they did with her later in DC. But she (and Batwoman, though she remains absent from Bat-lore of the 70s) had great costumes. The Catwoman, too, of the 70s, looked so much better than later versions. She's had some amazing artists illustrate her adventures to be sure (looking at you, Cameron Stewart) but I'll just never understand how the coolest comic book costumes get turned into generic leather outfits so damn often.

Detective, like many Nationals (aka DC) of the period, has a lot of fun inserts like these:

This feature in particular should really make a comeback.

Perhaps 1970 is most notable for the introduction of Man-Bat, created by Frank Robbins and Neal Adams. I never liked the character, though, so I'll just namecheck him.

He's fun to play in Lego Batman, though.

THE BRAVE AND THE BOLD 

(issues 87 - 92)

Mostly written by Bob Haney and illustrated by Irv Novick, Ross Andru. My favorite Batman story (issue 197, April 1983) appears in The Brave and the Bold, so I've always had a soft spot for collecting it. Even if it's not the greatest title at times. I've been meaning to sit down and watch the whole animated series.

It's a team-up book, so it's designed to be a series of one-and-dones with dubious connection to anything going on in other DC titles. The 1970 stretch chronicles team-ups with:

The "all-new, all-different" Wonder Woman:

Wildcat, the Phantom Stranger, Adam Strange, and a never-seen-again (to my knowledge) trio of eccentric British would-be-sleuths dubbed "the Bat-Squad:"

and Black Canary, who is also Batman's would-be love interest in our final entry:

JLA 

(issue 78 - 85)

Written by Denny O'Neil and Robert Kanigher (reprints written by Gardner Fox and E. Nelson Bridwell) and illustrated by Dick Dillin, Gil Kane, and Neal Adams.

Black Canary is a character with a long history, but she was essentially the girl in the fishnet stockings who couldn't decide between Green Arrow and Batman for much of her inglorious outings in 1970.

Naturally! This allows for Green Arrow to move in... creepily.

Uh-oh.

(heavy breathing)

She was an Earth-2 character who switched over to Earth-1 and joined the Justice League at the end of the 60s. Primarily associated with Green Arrow for most of her comic book (and other media) history. 

I didn't find any of these stories particularly memorable, except for those reprinted in issue 85, which were quite charming.

Gardner Fox and Mike Sekowsky were responsible for arguably the greatest stretch of JLA, from 1960 to 1968.

AND THE GREATEST BATMAN STORY 

OF 1970 WAS...

Not just a fantastic tribute to Enemy Ace, that wonderful Kubert / Kanigher creation, but a great Batman story. Checks off all the boxes. At this point in time, Bruce Wayne is dabbling in movie production, which brings him to a troubled movie set. Naturally, Batman uncovers the mystery and is confronted and challenged to an aerial death-duel by one of Von Hammer's descendants.

But is he supernaturally helped by Von Hammer himself from beyond the grave?

This was one of the ones I read in that Greatest Batman Stories Ever Told trade that opened my eyes to previous eras of Batman. A gateway drug, of sorts. The more I delved into pre-Crisis Batman, the less current incarnations of the character appealed to me. Which isn't to say all the good Batman came out pre-Crisis or anything crazy like that. Just that there's a whole lot of it back there, and I've never gotten sick of exploring it.

Next stop, 1971.