THOUGHTS ON BILL FINGER

I've recently finished two DC ARCHIVES collections of Golden Age Batman comics, and once more I am impressed with the level of quality in comparison with other formula-comics from the period. Yet the nature of this extra quality is hard to define.                                       

Whatever that "je ne se quoi" might be, it has nothing to do with a flouting of formula, that tedious preoccupation of the comic-book elitists. During the Golden Age, the dominant practice of comic-book publishers was to load their magazines with short stories of about eight pages each. This seems to have applied whether or not the magazines featured continuing characters, and the strategy probably evolved from the idea that the kid-readers had short attention spans and were more likely to pick up issues if they offered a lot of varied content. For adventure comics in particular, there evolved the formula that some have called the "three-act structure:"   

   (1) Villain, whether new or recurring, launches his first crime, defying either conventional lawmen or the starring hero, but escapes, (2) The hero crosses paths with the villain again, and the villain either simply escapes or subdues the hero and leaves him in a death-trap, (3) The hero either escapes a trap or finds a new means to track down the villain and defeats him, whether he's captured, dies, or merely seems to perish.                                                                       

 I haven't read every Bill Finger out there, even in comics alone. But I think I'm aware of all of his "career highs," and Rik Worth's book on the early days of Finger and his BATMAN co-creator Bob Kane has helped fill in a lot of blanks on this era of comics-history. Going by this biography, as well as an interview with Finger's grown son in ALTER EGO magazine, it appears that Finger didn't have any pretensions beyond making well-crafted formula adventure-stories for most of his life.                         

 What Finger seemed to have, though, was an inordinate talent for creating characters who transcended the limits of their formulaic stories. Dozens upon dozens of other writers followed the aforementioned "three-act structure" for such characters as Vigilante, Wildcat, Star-Spangled Kid, Tarantula, Human Torch, Black Terror and all the rest. But most other formula-stories in other features never escape the bounds of their own restrictions. Finger seems not only to have possessed the ability to take the formula-elements to their furthest extremes-- far more, I'd argue, than many more critically lauded talents like Jack Cole and C.C. Beck-- he also seemed to have inspired most of the other writers in the Bob Kane "stable," such as Edmond Hamilton and Gardner Fox. I'm not saying that any such imitations came about for abstract artistic reasons, though. If Gardner Fox wrote better stories for BATMAN than he did for RED MASK, it's probably because he recognized that the people writing the checks expected a special level of craft.                 

Finger also holds a special place in forging the trope of "the criminal who makes his crimes follow an artistic pattern." There were "pattern criminals," in the sense I'm using the term, in the pulp prose fiction on which most Golden Age adventure-comics patterned themselves, and a few preceded the rise of Superman and Batman. But what I've encountered in those earlier sources usually fit one of two types. First is the "one-gimmick villain,"-- an evildoer who gains control of one distinctive weapon, like the poison vampire bats of the Spider's 1935 foe "The Bat Man." Second is the "all-purpose villain," who can conjure a lot of weapons from an illimitable arsenal, like the 1938 "Munitions Master" from DOC SAVAGE, or Superman's first two "mad scientist" foes, The Ultra-Humanite and Luthor. Barring any new revelations, though, the Joker appears to be a third type: the "pattern criminal," who repeatedly keeps using gimmicks that reference some particular fetish or propensity. The Joker only uses one humor-based gimmick in his debut, the famed "Joker venom," but Finger and other Bat-writers kept finding new gimmicks for the Clown Prince of Crime to employ in his war of one-upmanship with the Dynamic Duo. Jerry Siegel debuted Luthor a month or so after the first appearance of the Joker, but as stated he was always an all-purpose villain. Siegel didn't tap into the appeal of "pattern criminals" until he launched his own somewhat risible take on Batman and Robin with the duo of "the Star-Spangled Kid and Stripesy" in October 1941. The Kid and his partner began battling arguable pattern-types like The Needle-- though I imagine Finger's second big antagonist, The Penguin, predated all or most of these by some months, since he popped up just a couple months after the Kid's debut. Superman's first recurring pattern-criminals, The Prankster and The Puzzler, both debuted in 1942.                                                                                   

  I think Finger's power to create good villains-- and, hypothetically, his ability to inspire other creators by his profit-making example-- sprang from his interest in figuring out at least rough psychological motives for his evildoers, just as he may have done for his heroes. This interest in even shallow psychology outstrips most of Finger's contemporaries. Jack Cole had an artistic talent which none of the BATMAN artists could have emulated had they wanted to, and also a taste for the ghoulish that exceeded the best japes of the Joker. But Cole's villains are almost entirely one-dimensional, and his best-known hero Plastic Man is not too much better. Both Rik Worth and Fred Finger suggest that Bill Finger was a dreamer who never quite grew up, so that he was rarely able to manage money or time. But I'd argue that even in his weaker stories-- and Finger did a lot of goofy, poorly conceived stories in addition to his quality fare-- he shows a greater, perhaps childlike ability to take the weirdest ideas seriously, in a spirit of uninhibited play.                  

MYTHCOMICS: BATMAN: THE JOKER WAR (BATMAN 95-100, 2020)

... Joker considers both Batman and himself to be above the common breed of "civilized men," telling him, "Don't talk like you're one of them. You're not, even if you'd like to be. To them, you're just a freak." I guess I'm fortunate Nolan didn't work in any mentions of Ubermenschen, possibly counting on audiences to interpolate the (false) idea that Nietzsche's supermen were simply strong men who ignored society's rules. -- my review of DARK KNIGHT.

 This five-issue arc appeared on the heels of two other arcs in the regular BATMAN comic, both scribed by James Tynion IV. In the first one, CITY OF BANE, Bane kills faithful butler Alfred. In the next, THEIR DARK DESIGNS, several of Batman's familiar rogues -- including the Joker, resurrected from the usual villain-death-- set up the theft of Bruce Wayne's billions, which is the main story-trope of THE JOKER WAR. In addition, during DESIGNS Tynion, in concert with artist Jorge Jimenez, introduced Punchline, the Joker's replacement for his former partner, which debut includes an inevitable "first fight" between Punchline and Harley Quinn. I passed on reading CITY OF BANE, but to put JOKER WAR in perspective I did reread DESIGNS. As on my first reading, I found that it was just a basic Bat-adventure, with the intro of Punchline being that arc's only distinguishing aspect.

WAR is more complex than DESIGNS, for this third Bat-arc partly builds upon, and partly rejects, Christopher Nolan's quasi-Marxist interpretation of Joker. Some might aver that Nolan's above line about Batman and Joker being members of some elect group had already been suggested by assorted comics-writers, not least Frank Miller, but Nolan certainly popularized the concept. On the third page of WAR's first section, Tynion takes Nolan-Joker's sentiments and takes them in a similar direction, as Batman relates to an imaginary Alfred in his head:

I'm the only other person in this world he thinks is alive...

 

At the same time, Nolan-Joker shows utter contempt for money, while Tynion-Joker enjoys having access to the Wayne fortune, even if his main purpose is to use filthy lucre to defeat his destined enemy. That plan revolves around using money to prove Joker's view that Gotham City, the cynosure Batman has devoted his life to protecting, is really more in line with Joker's philosophy than Batman's.

 

One of Joker's opening gambits is to exacerbate the hero's already de-stabilized state of mind by having Punchline expose Batman to a toxin that makes him hallucinate in far more gross ways. Harley Quinn, anxious to keep Joker from turning Gotham into his own crazy town, seeks to aid the crusader, though her ultimate goal is to bring the Clown Prince's reign to a permanent end.

Harley manages to take Batman to a hideout, giving him a counter-agent to the toxin. Under this chemical bombardment, the hero begins to "trip balls" as Harley calls it, which includes another vivid dialogue with Alfred. (Actually, it sounds about the same as the toxin-less hallucination Batman has at the opening of the story.) Imaginary Alfred adds an element that obviously couldn't appear in the Nolanverse, having Alfred claim that Joker "mocks love and family by pulling his acolytes close to him. Making a joke of your family, your relationships. But he'd just as soon put a bullet in their heads if that gave him the upper hand against you." Alfred's subsequent statement about how the number of Joker's victims matters far more to the hero than to Joker, however, sounds largely like a restatement of a similar point in Miller's DARK KNIGHT RETURNS.

While the crusader trips out, Joker and Punchline enjoy the high life, with Joker commenting on his supposed early life (which of course could be a total fantasy on his part). Punchline mentions that some of their men have been slain by a new vigilante, Clownhunter. Though Joker gives the order to have Clownhunter "crucified" as an example, the villain is pleased to see the rise of an avenger who doesn't obey Batman's no-killing principles, because that confirms Joker's view of Gotham as a "kill or be killed" cesspool.

A little later, Punchline invades Harley's hideout and tries to kill both Harley and Batman. In terms of gender politics, Tynion must tread carefully here. Since the original Harley-Joker relationship of the nineties Bat-cartoon was denounced as toxic, Harley can't be seen as merely jealous of Joker's new female partner/girlfriend. For that matter, Punchline makes clear that she's not into Joker for reasons of passion, but because she admires his unswerving devotion to chaos. And Tynion largely succeeds in making the catfight about how each female projects, or has projected, her desires under the empty vessel of the Clown Prince. Tynion even throws in the irony that "there's nothing in the world that [Joker's] ever going to care about more than that stupid bat."

Back in Batman's seething brain, Alfred adds a fairly original wrinkle, stating that "Batman is a child's dream, that you can travel the world and learn every possible way to save everyone"-- but also adding that the dream is important for that very reason. Earlier Punchline has already claimed that Batman, not his kid-associates, is the one who gives his tools their childish names, and a recovering Batman indirectly confirms Punchline's hunch in a funny scene with Harley. 

Not too surprisingly, Joker too echoes the insight about a "child's fantasy," though he calls it "selfish and strange" because Batman has sought to alter Gotham from its true corrupt nature. But Batman has one advantage: a whole Bat-family invested in his dream, and with the help of that family Batman turns the tide against Joker's army and recovers the Wayne fortune. Bat and Clown meet at Ace Chemical, the place where most versions of Joker were clown-ified, and though the result of this never-ending battle is inevitable, Tynion concocts a reasonably original climax. 

Harley shows up while both combatants are on their last legs. She attaches one bomb to the tied-up Joker and another to herself, then runs away, forcing Batman to choose to save her life or Joker's. Batman makes the right choice, though naturally the villain escapes via his own resources, though not without a little humiliation. An epilogue shows Batman perform an "intervention" for the vigilante Clownhunter, trying to persuade him to give up his unholy fixation on killing.

JOKER WAR, though it's a better than average Bat-myth, is certainly no classic. There are too many segues in which Batman encounters zombies of some sort, both imaginary and brought about through some obscure Joker-science, and the Alfred-delusions would have made more sense if all of them had been triggered by the toxins. (There's a loose excuse that even before getting dosed, Batman was injured in the previous arc, but it's not a convincing reason for his fantasies.) There's a nothing subplot about Gotham's other villains trying to profit from the chaos, but it just takes up space. To my eye Jimenez resembles a more rough-hewn version of Jim Lee's work in the celebrated HUSH storyline, giving maximum moxie to even minor villains and to briefly seen members of the Bat-family. 

NEAR-MYTHS: THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS,THE LAST CRUSADE (2016)

LAST CRUSADE was a one-shot comic from some of the same collaborators that produced the previous year's DARK KNIGHT RETURNS: MASTER RACE. This time out, co-creators Frank Miller and Brian Azzarello partner with John Romita Jr to produce a much shorter take on one aspect of the Dark Knight universe: the events leading up to the Joker's capture and murder of The Jason Todd Robin.

To be sure, the creators aren't bothering to synch up their story with the well-known "Death in the Family" events, but instead produced a new narrative spun off from a brief reference to Jason's death in the 1986 DARK KNIGHT RETURNS. The Joker's act of slaying Todd-Robin was not mentioned in DKR, but not surprisingly in CRUSADE the Clown Prince is still the culprit, albeit under different circumstances.

The Joker and Batman actually don't square off at all here, for the villain spends most of his time in Arkham Asylum, telling quixotic stories and eventually breaking free. Batman and Todd-Robin spend most of their time investigating a plot set up by Poison Ivy and abetted by Killer Croc. Oh, and a de-costumed Catwoman has a few scenes. (Guess one could take that two ways.)

CRUSADE's only notable element is how Miller and Azzarello address that frequent that bete noir of realistically-minded comics-fans, the moral queasiness over under-age kids becoming the sidekicks of adult heroes. Of course when the kid-sidekick trope began in comics' Golden Age, it was nothing more than a transparent attempt to appeal to kids who wanted to fantasize about being heroes close to their own ages, rather than identifying only with adult crusaders. It's therefore ridiculous to treat a simple wish-fulfillment fantasy as if it were subject to moralistic evaluations.

To be sure, Miller et al don't pursue the "black beast" all that much. Rather, because Batman is getting old, he begins to worry about Jason Todd taking chances-- and, in addition, whether or not he's become increasingly ruthless. The problem with these two intertwined elements is that they work against one another, and against the expressed idea that kids in general shouldn't be exposed to dangerous activities. I suppose the authors might have formulated the argument that Jason's faults, as seen through Batman's eyes, were tied to his youth, but they didn't precisely do so. 

In fact, I speculate that the main reason Miller et al build up Jason Todd's penchant for violence is not because of anything in Todd-Robin's original career. IMO it's more likely that the authors were responding to the developments of "Reborn Robin" in 2005, in which Jason re-appeared as a bloodthirsty vigilante, The Red Hood. Later narratives redeemed the Hood so that he became a virtuous hero again. But CRUSADE suggests that even in his "innocent youth" Todd-Robin had somewhat sadistic tendencies-- which is ironic, since this was a mental quirk Miller imputed to his version of Batman in the classic DARK KNIGHT RETURNS.

MYTHCOMICS: BATMAN: THE LONG HALLOWEEN (1996-97)

In contrast to the many admirers of the Loeb-Sale LONG HALLOWEEN, I didn't get much out of the collected issues after two separate readings, aside from appreciating Sale's art. I'm not sure that I realized that it was supposed to be a direct sequel to Frank Miller's celebrated BATMAN: YEAR ONE, though obviously HALLOWEEN had to occur early in Batman's career due to the absence of any members of his Bat-family. 

In this iteration Batman has just barely started to make inroads against the entrenched "Roman Empire," the reigning crime family in Gotham, represented by local godfather Carmine Falcone, aka "the Roman." The Caped Crusader has already won the confidence of police captain James Gordon, and much of the action in HALLOWEEN centers around the way Batman and Gordon also bond with D.A. Harvey Dent in their attempt to bring down criminals. Organized crime is the true foe of these do-gooders, while the notorious super-villains of Batman's mythos are regarded as "freaks," particularly by the career criminals. Batman has met most of his big-name foes at this time-- Joker, Riddler, Penguin, Scarecrow, Mad Hatter, Catwoman, and Poison Ivy-- though Loeb and Sale also make use of two lesser lights in the Bat-mythos, Calendar Man and Solomon Grundy. At this point in time, Harvey Dent has not yet undergone his transformation into Two-Face, and indeed that transformation is the culmination of HALLOWEEN's main plotline.

Still, I wasn't deeply impressed with the Loeb-Sale treatment of either the ordinary crooks or the super-crooks, nor with the retelling of Dent's transformation, or with the "serial killer" mystery that extended across all 13 issues of HALLOWEEN. Each issue represented a month in the Bat-universe, during which Batman proved unable to keep the mysterious assassin Holiday from executing at least one victim a month, always on a popular holiday. Most of Holiday's victims are also members of the Falcone crime family, and so a major part of the mystery is the attempt to determine whether the killer belongs to a competing family-- or someone who hates crime but has decided to go outside the law-- someone like Harvey Dent.

I confess that even though I'm not a great admirer of Christopher Nolan or his collaborator David Goyer, their prologue to a 2011 collection of HALLOWEEN gave me a new insight. Both filmmakers stated that the Loeb-Sale work had been a seminal influence on their first two Bat-films. Remembering how much THE DARK KNIGHT plays off of HALLOWEEN's leitmotif about "belief"-- particularly with the phrase "I believe in Harvey Dent"-- I realized that whatever I thought about the films, HALLOWEEN was about how even among good men, belief is always vulnerable to corruption.

In most Batman stories, the hero can track down any serial killer, because the murderer always conveniently leaves clues that enable the crime-fighter to track down the miscreant. HALLOWEEN goes to the other extreme. Even though Holiday leaves behind some holiday-themed token every time he (or she) kills, Batman learns nothing from the tokens, and he almost nver manages to anticipate where Holiday might strike next, despite knowing what day the assassination will take place. Holiday remains "off-camera" for most of the story, since Loeb and Sale were creating a genuine mystery, even if their denouement is somewhat ambivalent. Oddly, one of the few super-villains who has some mythic presence here is the lower-tier felon The Calendar Man. Though Julian Day is not directed involved in the Holiday killings, his obsession with seasonal occurrences gives him in HALLOWEEN a function like unto that of Hannibal Lecter in RED DRAGON. Batman consults with Calendar Man as Clarice consulted with Lecter to learn the nature of the Red Dragon-- with the main difference being that Calendar Man only provides one useful yet highly ambivalent clue, as if he were a Greek oracle dispensing problematic advice.

The other super-villains almost function as date-markers during Holiday's year-long campaign of targeted killings, and all of them are pretty routine. The Joker is crazy. Catwoman is unpredictable. Poison Ivy uses her hypnotic plants to suborn Bruce Wayne's will. Arguably none of them shine, because the focus is on Harvey Dent, whom the reader knows is destined to become Two-Face. 

None of the "ordinary crooks" in HALLOWEEN get any better treatment, despite Sale's borrowing from visual elements in THE GODFATHER. All of the hoods knocked off by Holiday are ciphers, while Loeb doesn't bring any interesting dynamics to Carmine Falcone and the various literal members of his family: wife, sons, daughter. There's a minor subplot revealing how, many years ago, Thomas Wayne saved Falcone's life, but not much comes of it.

Though no one cares about the bickering of the criminals, freakish or normal, Loeb and Sale spotlight the trials of the just at every opportunity. Dent's busy schedule as prosecutor causes him to neglect his wife Gilda, and on one occasion she's injured by a bomb intended to kill both of them. Because of Thomas Wayne's past action, Dent tries unsuccessfully to prove that Bruce Wayne has some collusion with Falcone, though of course the fighting D.A. does not know that Wayne's other identity. The troika of Batman-Gordon-Dent is strained as the first two suspect Dent of having adopted the identity of Holiday in order to murder the ganglords of Gotham. 

But before Batman and Gordon have the chance to accuse Dent, one of the crime-lords strikes a decisive blow: assailing Dent's face with acid. Crazed by pain, Dent flees to the underworld of Gotham's sewer system, where he forms an odd bond with the undead monster Solomon Grundy, simply because Dent knows the "Solomon Grundy" rhyme. And although Harvey Dent is not guilty of the Holiday murders, his ambivalence about the law's effectiveness transforms him into Two-Face. Only with the passage of a full year do Batman and Gordon finally figure out how to trap the real Holiday, and that's only with Calendar Man's help. But the damage is done. Two-Face uses Grundy to liberate the other fiends from Arkham Asylum, and though Batman manages to corral them all, he can't prevent the formerly righteous D.A. from going over the line and killing Carmine Falcone.  

Two-Face is arrested as well, but he's beyond the pale to his former friends, and they can only ask themselves if their actions were just. Loeb and Sale then throw in a last "teaser" to suggest that there's an angle to the Holiday killings that the two crime-fighters will never learn.

One podcast professed the opinion that HALLOWEEN was all about how the ordinary crooks were displaced in the Bat-mythos by the super-crooks. On the contrary, I think the diminished importance of the super-crooks' deeds in the story indicates their transitory effects on the crime scene. Yes, by the end of the story "the Roman Empire" has fallen, but every Bat-reader knows that other crime families simply filled the void in present-day Gotham. Sale's deliberately cartoon-like art frequently exaggerates the super-fiends to the point of absurdity. When Batman punches the Joker in one scene, the villain's neck stretches like the body of a jack-in-the-box. In the Penguin's brief appearance, he sports a monocle so big that no human eye-muscles could hold it, and Poison Ivy has "leaf-hair" that's longer than her entire body. Compared to the scourge of ordinary criminals and the poisonous effect they have even on righteous people, the super-fiends themselves are like the calendar's holidays: attempts to punctuate the dull round of human existence with the celebration of non-rational customs. And that is the "master thread" by which BATMAN THE LONG HALLOWEEN can be accurately read as a mythcomic.

"MAD LOVE" (BATMAN ADVENTURES, 1994)

I've already done a short review of the animated adaptation of this one-shot comic here and gave that episode a strong mythicity rating. While a number of beat-for-beat adaptations don't necessarily duplicate the myth-discourse of their originals, both original and derivation are equally good at depicting the psychological morass in the mind of Harley Quinn.

Harley's co-creator Paul Dini has stated that he had no notion that the girl in the jester outfit was going to become one of the most enduring characters of nineties comics. Originally Dini only meant to give Joker a female henchwoman loosely akin to the molls who accompanied many male villains on the 1966 BATMAN teleseries. However, even the few molls who patterned their attire after that of their male leader were usually just there to look pretty. Even though Harley was not intended to appear more than once, Dini had her voiced by his college buddy Arleen Sorkin, and even in that one episode there was more back-and-forth between Harley and Joker than one ever found in a 1966 Bat-episode.

Since Harley's character evolved organically, it's possible that Dini never really thought about the Harley-Joker relationship changing in early episodes. However, MAD LOVE shows the writer, teamed with artist/co-creator Bruce Timm, finally decided to portray that interaction as fundamentally toxic. Joker was, after all, a manic killer, and it may not be coincidence that in her animated episodes Dini didn't actually show Harley callously killing anyone, however often she fought with Batman and his allies.

So LOVE starts out showing Joker and Harley trying to knock off Commissioner Gordon. Batman prevents this, but Harley is instrumental in stunning the crusader so that the two criminals escape. (Note: the cartoon improves on the Joker's farewell line, having the villain say, "may the floss be with you.") On the same page, though, Joker is seen to be completely ungrateful for Harley's help.

Batman then converses with Alfred, musing on Harley's origins. Two details that were omitted from the cartoon: that Harley got into college on a gymnastics scholarship, and that she apparently used sex to pad her college resume.

Meanwhile, Joker is taking it hard about getting defeated again, and he's so desperate for a new Batman-slaying scheme that he starts reviewing old schemes he already discarded. After being maltreated by her "puddin'" once again, Harley almost has a moment of clarity about her rotten love-life. 

This leads to an extended flashback, in which she goes to work at Joker's perennial prison, Arkham Asylum. She's secretly hoping to garner big-time secrets from some of the celebrity inmates in order to write a best-selling tell-all book, But Joker sees in Doctor Harleen Quinzell a mark to be played, and he plays her so well that she abandons all her small-time ambitions, making her into what she believes to be the perfect "Clown Princess of Crime."

But at the end of her flashback, Harley ends up blaming Batman for all of her troubles. She uses Joker's discarded piranha-fish death-trap and traps Batman in it. Batman's only hope is to play on her psychological vulnerabilities, in a more honest manner than Joker did, by convincing her to call Joker in to witness his eternal foe's demise.

Joker comes. Joker is not pleased that his girlfriend trumped him.

So Harley's reward for patterning herself after a clown-themed stone killer is almost getting killed. Batman escapes thanks to having brought Joker into the mix, and Joker seems to "die" in his own big fall. At story's end, Harley returns to Arkham but as an inmate. This time, she almost comes to terms with her own egotistical follies. But Dini wasn't quite ready for Harley's reform, and LOVE ends with her re-descent into the best known "amour fou" of the superhero genre.

But she didn't stay lost in that delusion, and over time Harley became the poster girl for women working their way out of toxic relationships with men, as seen in the 2016 SUICIDE SQUAD. (No one seems interested in whether her girl-on-girl friendship with Poison Ivy might prove equally-- or even literally-- just as toxic, but -- baby steps, baby steps.)

DOMINANT PRIMES AND SUBS

In the CONVOCATION OF CROSSOVERS series I set down four configurations with respect to stature and charisma that could applied to individual crossover narratives. However, I made frequent references to judging stature and charisma with respect to the cumulative histories of a given icon, particularly in Part 3, where I dealt in part with how stature accrues in "rotating team" serial features. Now, to better distinguish between these individual and cumulative assessments, I've extrapolated four complementary configurations designed to be applied only to cumulative assessments.

Given that one cited example of a problematic stature-character was Batman's foe The Joker, I decided to use that character and one from Part 1, Fu Manchu, as exemplars of the four configurations.

FU MANCHU was, from his first conception, a STATURE DOMINANT PRIME. The prose book series from author Sax Rohmer may have been told from the perspectives of the devil-doctor's enemies, but even when the Chinese mastermind was offstage, he was always the star of the story. Most though not all adaptations of the character to film or television followed the same pattern.

Yet one of Fu's most enduring incarnations in pop culture was in the Marvel comic book MASTER OF KUNG FU, which starred the villain's heroic son Shang-Chi. I stipulated that though Fu became a subordinate icon in this series, such was the degree of his stature that it was not diminished by his becoming a Sub. Thus within the sphere of that series, as well as a handful of other Marvel Comics appearances, Fu Manchu was a STATURE DOMINANT SUB.

The Joker evolved in a roughly opposite manner. He swiftly became the most-often used villain in Batman's rogues' gallery, but in all of these multifarious appearances, he remained a CHARISMA DOMINANT SUB.

I confess I'm not conversant with many of the Bat-books from the 21st century on, so I wouldn't be surprised to learn that there have been assorted Joker-focused narratives over the years. But I'm acquainted only with the nine-issue JOKER comic series of the 1970s, which did little to counter the Clown Prince's Sub reputation. In those issues, Joker would be a CHARISMA DOMINANT PRIME. I might even extend the logic of this proposition to the 2019 JOKER movie, except that it's arguable that the script suggests the possibility that Arthur Fleck may not be the canonical clown who becomes the bane of Gotham City and the Wayne Who Will Be Bats.

CRYPTO-CONTINUITY AND DOPPELGANGBANGERS PT. 2

 

I ended Part 1 on this observation: that even though it was possible for raconteurs to use the name of a famous literary character for any number of secondary doppelgangers, the mere use of the name did not confer a prior status or charisma upon a doppelganger that shared no points of continuity with the original. Thus, a few dozen Dracula-doppelgangers may register as either strong or weak template deviations of the Stoker creation—but “Dracula, Superhero” did not. The latter would be a “total template deviation,” in that he has no gradations of “strong” or “weak” points of continuity.

A similar “total deviation” appears in the case of impostors who assume a familiar guise for some clandestine motive. A few months before Marvel Comics revived the 1940s hero Captain America, Stan Lee had a criminal impostor, the Acrobat, assume the guise of the WII hero in order to deceive the Human Torch. The Acrobat was a total deviation because he clearly shared no continuity with any previous version of the star-spangled adventurer. 

Once a continuity was forged between the forties and sixties version of the character, a “retcon” had to be devised to explain away a previous fifties-era iteration of both Captain American and his sidekick Bucky. Those characters then became demonstrably separate from the original iterations.

The clandestine motive may even remain hidden only from the doppelganger. In the amusing script for issue #4 of THE JOKER, an actor playing Sherlock Holmes suffers amnesia, and becomes convinced that he is Holmes. He then assumes the Holmes persona in order to track down and defeat the Clown Prince, though neither the Joker nor any reader of the comic thinks that the actor is the real thing.

Cycling back in the other direction, it’s possible to have a valid template derivation even without using a famous name, by invoking only images or tropes familiar to an audience. A major plotline of the first LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN sequence includes a turf war in 1890s London between perennial Holmes-foe Moriarty and a mysterious figure called “the Doctor.” Moore used both images and verbal tropes to imply that the Doctor was Fu Manchu, but he never named the character since Fu Manchu is still trademarked, unlike all the public-domain characters in the LEAGUE franchise. 

Similarly, Moore may not have been sure as to whether the prose-and-film character Bulldog Drummond was free and clear. Thus when a version of the character appears in BLACK DOSSIER, Moore changed the doppelganger’s given name from the “Hugh” of the original prose books to “Hugo.” Ironically, the prose character is barely known to modern audiences, having been eclipsed by cinema’s heavily glamorized “strong template deviation,” but Moore’s “Hugo” bears more resemblance to the rude, brutish character in the original prose series.

However, also in DOSSIER we find a “total template deviation” of a different nature: the spoof. The story also includes “Jimmy,” an easily recognizable parody of James Bond, but Jimmy has no significant points of commonality with the Bond of either prose or films. Moore created Jimmy to mock what he deemed the unlikable aspects of James Bond, but he lays it on so thick that the reader no longer believes that there exists any continuity between the two agents, any more than one could believe that “Bats-Man,” a spoof of the 1966 BATMAN teleseries, had anything in common with any version of Batman.

Some points of continuity may exist when the doppelgangers are not merely impostors, but re-creations of the originals that invoke specific memories in those that observe them. In the story “Santa Claus in Wonderland,” Santa never actually meets any denizen of that Lewis Carroll domain; he merely dreams his encounters with Alice, the Mad Hatter et al. But these dream-figures maintain at least a weak continuity with the originals, because Santa imagines that they are like the characters in the books (which for the most part, they are).

However, in SCOOBY DOO 2, the teen detectives and their Great Dane encounter doppelgangers who are artificially concocted versions of ”spooks” who were all originally just costumed human beings. As entertaining as it is to see the Scooby Gang attacked by a “legion of doom” that seems made up of their old enemies, these artificial menaces no more share identity with their originals than a Hulk-robot does with the Incredible Hulk.

One more "total deviation" will suffice for the time being: the type openly based on some familiar characters but who are meant to be entirely separate characters. The four main characters of MONSTERS VS. ALIENS do not claim to be identical in any way with their 1950s SF-movie models, who are, going left from right, the Fly, the Fifty-Foot Woman, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and The Blob. Because they don't share any continuity with their models, MONSTERS VS. ALIENS does not qualify as any kind of crossover, though it is a "mashup," in which diverse characters with some similar aspects but also with different backgrounds are jammed together in one narrative. It might be fairly argued that all crossovers may be called mashups, but that all mashups are not crossovers.

ESCALATION PROCLAMATION PT. 2

 My original formulations with respect to the principle I called "escalation" in this 2012 post had nothing to do with centricity or crossovers, but I've decided to adapt the principle with respect to the concepts of high and low forms of both stature and charisma.

Since beginning the crossover-series, I've mentioned that every narrative presence, whether a Prime or a Sub, can change the form of its stature or charisma when a given presence migrates to another narrative. In Part 1 I observed that Sax Rohmer's Fu Manchu started out with a high level of stature in his own series, and I compared him loosely to Walter Scott's Ivanhoe.

One of the main determinants of a character's "high" scores in either stature or charisma is that of sheer *durability." Whether he's a character with just one narrative, like Ivanhoe, or with several, like Fu Manchu, the character may have greater stature or charisma due to his, her, or its role in popular culture.

This is the most important aspect of escalation with relevance to cultural significance. It does not matter that Ivanhoe had just one literary outing while Fu Manchu had twelve novels and four short stories; what matters most is that they became cultural touchstones. Once this happens, these iconic characters, no matter how much they may be changed in later adaptations, have had their stature escalated to the highest level possible for a purely literary character; the level of Qualitative Escalation.

Now, the vast majority of literary characters don't become cultural touchstones. Walter Scott published a lot of other one-shot novels in addition to IVANHOE. But if for some reason he had chosen to make even a brief series out of some character-- say, Guy Mannering-- then arguably Guy Mannering would have a little more stature than an equally non-iconic Scott character still confined to just one adventure like, say, Quentin Durward. This sort of escalation I call Quantitative Escalation.

Similarly, no one aside from readers with very antiquarian tastes remembers Rohmer's serial detective Gaston Max. But in his day, he enjoyed four novels and a handful of radio-plays, so that puts him ahead of a one-shot figure like the starring villain of Rohmer's 1932 YUAN HEE SEE LAUGHS, who might be best described as a "fat Fu Manchu."

For that reason, in Part 2 of my crossover-series, I noted that I deemed the now obscure Golden Age heroine Miss Victory to have accrued a moderately high level of stature-- one related purely to how often she appeared-- so that when she was revived in the 1980s series FEMFORCE, her original stature "crossed over" with the new heroes created for the series, even if this "crossover" existed only in the initiating episode of the FEMFORCE series, since the character, re-dubbed "Ms. Victory," became thereafter absorbed into the Femforce mythos.

On the other hand, in Part 3 I mentioned that I didn't think Marvel's character Magik had accrued much stature in her one four-issue series, and so I assigned her a low level of stature in her initial crossover with the already established New Mutants team, and this too would be based on the principle of Quantitative Escalation.

The same dichotomy applies to characters who are dominantly Subs, whether they possess high or low levels of charisma. I also mentioned in Part 3 that of the three Batman villains who formed temporary team-ups with the crusader in the original BRAVE AND BOLD series, the Joker had enjoyed nine issues of a series, unlike the Riddler and Ra's Al Ghul. Yet the meager stature that the Joker garnered from his series did nothing to erase his dominant image as a subordinate figure, and so I would tend to regard even the temporary escalations of these three Subs to Prime status to be equally negligible. 

By the 1970s, though, all three possessed comparable levels of high charisma resulting from multiple appearances as subordinate character in the Batman features (as well as occasional guest-shots in other features). Such figures, having negligible stature, don't fit the category of even the low-stature crossover. However, they may generate a high-charisma crossover when comparable figures cross paths with one another, as per my example of the Joker and the Penguin in Part 4.  

The same applies to a multi-villain crossover like THE LONG HALLOWEEN-- but only to those villains-- Joker, Mad Hatter, Scarecrow et al-- who have "made their bones." This same story introduces a new villain, Holiday, but since he never appeared before or after that story, he has negligible charisma and so is not part of the charisma-crossover per se. 

Lastly, a well-traveled Sub can generate a low-charisma crossover when he appears outside his normal bailiwick in some other character's mythos, such as we see when the Riddler crossed paths with the Elongated Man.

There are certainly other permutations to consider, but I'll leave things there for the time being.