DARK KNIGHT IS BACK FOR MORE

Frank Miller, who defined Batman for a generation of comics readers—and set the pace for darkly flawed superheroes — is back for another turn with the Cowled Crusader in The Dark Knight III: The Master Race. This 8-part series extends to a trilogy that started with the 1986 limited series The Dark Knight Returns and continued in 2001-02 with The Dark Knight Strikes Again. Miller, who wrote as well as drew these two titles, is working with co-writer Brian Azzarello (Wonder Woman, 100 Bullets) on this title.

"Batman remains my favorite comic book hero and a sequel to Dark Knight is daunting," Miller said in a statement, "but we'll do our best."

Azzarello added: "It's been an amazing experience collaborating with Frank these past six months. I think we have an epic story that these characters truly deserve."

Sporting a stunning black-and-white cover, the book, penciled by Andy Kubert with inks by Klaus Janson, is an extravagant — i.e., expensive — production with glossy thick paper, a few pages that are nothing but shadowy photographs of dark, cloudy nights, and the astonishing inclusion of a comic-within-a-comic, a mini-comicbook bound into the larger enterprise — all an elaborate testament to Miller’s market value in the industry. No comic book artist that I can recall has ever been given this kind of treatment. So the question is: Is it worth it?

Hard to say. I had to read Book One twice to make any sense of it, and what sense I can find is ambiguous at best. But Book One is a setup for the remaining seven volumes, and a setup is supposed to do two things (at least): introduce the characters and provoke readers’ curiosity. And this issue does all of that.

At various intervals throughout, we in action police commissioner Yindel, Batman, Wonder Woman, Superwoman, and the Atom (who stars in the mini-comic). Nothing conclusive about any of this. But none of it is supposed to be conclusive: it’s all preparation.

Finally, in the book’s closing sequence, Batman on a motorcycle is pursued by the police in several squadcars. When they catch up to him, a battle ensues. Batman is nicked by a bullet and downed. The cops then gang up on him, beating him to a bloody pulp.

But when one cop approaches the prone body, Batman seemingly revives and attacks the cops surrounding him. At this point, police commissioner Yindel shows up, pointing a pistol at Batman and telling him to stop. She bends over the bleeding Dark Knight and asks: “Where’s Bruce Wayne?”

And as Yindel pulls the mask off Batman, we see that Batman is — a woman.

Who says: “Bruce Wayne is dead.”

In this hodge-podge, we can discern, vaguely, a theme. We see a police force somehow corrupted and diverted from its traditional purpose. And we see various superheroes who’ve given up their functions.

And Bruce Wayne is “dead.”

The stage is now set for his return.

The artwork, by two seasoned veterans, leaves nothing to be desired. The pictures are models of clarity and competence. The storytelling echoes Miller at his best — alternating, as needed, between vast vistas and quick-cut fast-moving sequences, focusing on telling aspects of the action.

More to come.