God Save the Butler

 Well, well, well. Look who's back.

O.G. Alfred.

Alfred, the faithful butler.

Tom King's killing off of Alfred--by Bane (of course it was Bane)--was one of the final straws that put a stop to my reading any comics.  It was a sure sign that there were no adults at home at DC any more and that the children were running amok, breaking toys and setting fire to things just see what would happen.

Tom King was about five years old when at Marvel Comics the Kingpin put Matt Murdock through the ringer during Frank Miller's run on Daredevil, creating the template for "a great story is when you break a hero down as much as possible". Or at least that was the takeaway for less talented writers than Frank Miller. 

It must have made an impression on little Tommy because those less talented writers certainly includes Tom King, who probably swore on the graves of his parents to do the same thing to Batman when he grew up. Since Batman is a greater character than Daredevil, that would make him a greater writer than Frank Miller!

I also assume young King killed his parents so that he could make this vow.  And because he believes you can't be great unless you suffer and other people die for you. No wonder the CIA snapped him up.

And so he did. He made Batman an emotional basketcase, set up a wedding fake-out that would have shamed a telenovella writer, and, when he was running out of barns to burn, used Batman's most lazily-conceived villain to kill one of comics most beloved, well-known, and long-standing supporting characters, purely for shock value.

LITERALLY long-standing. Have you ever seen Alfred sit down? It's his super-power.

Now, look; Alfred's been dead before. I remember the last time (well, now it's 'the first time', I suppose).   Motorcycling bad-ass Alfred died heroically sacrificing HIMSELF to save Batman & Robin because OF COURSE that's how he would die. Detective Comics #328 (1964):

I should rather think Alfred would make more of a "squish"
but that would probably have set the wrong tone.

So there was an in-story reason that Alfred died. And there was a real-world reason to: so that the writers could bring in Aunt Harriet to make Batman seem less gay. Is that a good reason? Does it make sense? Obviously not.  It was achingly stupid. 

But at least it had a purpose, compared to Tom King's use of Bane to murder Alfred. Tom King is just playing Angry Greek God: he just wants to see Batman suffer.  

If you're a bigger asshole to heroes than Mr. Mxyzptlk is, should you really be writing comics?
Because Tom King will not try being guilty for a while, I assure you.

Even if I could forgive being gratuitously dickish to Batman for shock value, I would draw the line at using BANE.  Really, I don't want to say a bad word about (Bane creator) Chuck Dixon, but Bane leaves me little choice.  Everything about him is absurd (and not in a good way).  The Mexican wrestler get up, the cheesy origin, the utter lack of motivation as a Batman villain. All of it is made 1000 ties worse by his creation as The Villain to Outvillain All Other Villains, when he's obviously much more like disposable muscle hired by an ACTUAL villain.  

Even Joel Schumacher knew that.

Bane BEGS to be taken seriously and writers of Bane beg for you to take him seriously. You know who doesn't beg to be taken seriously? SERIOUS VILLAINS.  Think of most versions/portrayals of, say, the Joker, the Penguin, the Riddler. PLEASE underestimate me, they say. Look how goofy I am! Right before they murder the **** out of you. That's what makes them scary; they don't give a hoot what you think about them. 

You know who else begs to be taken seriously? Tom King. So of course he had to use Bane; they are two of a kind.

This is how you really do it, TK.

I suppose I'm not being fair to Tom King for ruining Batman; it's a limited view of his work. He's ruined other characters, too, mostly notably Wally West.  

All things considered, "ruining Wally West" is a VERY impressive accomplishment.

Nobody who was in Heroes in Crisis came away unsullied; even the robot therapists had to be scrapped. Robot therapists; where'd you'd get those from, Tom; Professor Ivo?

Like Professor Ivo, Tom King believes the JLA must be punished.
People like Tom King are the reason Vibe died.

So, thanks to Tom King's thirst for blood and fame, harmless, humanizing Alfred has been missing for, what, two years now; three? But the adults like Mark Waid are back home from date night and ready to put the house back in order, no matter what absurd plot devices (Demonic Damian! Jakeem Thunder! Tim Who Remembers Me Hunter!) are required.

Never despair, Batfans. Because there is always Superman.
And as long as there is Superman, there is Mxyzptlk.
And Mxyzptlk implies Bat-Mite.
And through Bat-Mite, anything can be fixed;
he's here to help.

I can't honestly say I'm looking forward to reading Batman vs. Robin #1 (because Damian is truly the Tedious Character Find of 2006), but I certainly welcome Alfred's return. Batman's world hasn't been the same without his snappy comebacks, his dry wit, and his ability to put Bruce in his place.

You know who actually originated that characterization of Alfred?
Frank Miller.

I would also welcome the return to sanity I hope it signals for DC editorship.

Hey, look, he's sitting down.

The King is dead.

Long live the Butler.

Got milk, Ty Templeton?

Artist Ty Templeton, I am calling you out.

No butler in the world would serve a drink so that his bare hands have touched every possible place a diner could drink from.

No WAITER would do that.

Alfred certainly wouldn't. 

Riters! Don't be igdolent.

Please be careful when you are writing characters who are smarter than you are.  And by that I mean, characters who are smarter than you are, not just characters who are smarter than you think you are.

This warning applies not only to obviously not-smart writers (like the recent Aquaman writer who made fun of my criticism of his work on Aquaman, only to get canned quickly after when other readers had the same view I did).  It applies also to writers like, say, James Robinson, whose outstanding work on re-creating Starman for the '90s and whose imaginative use of Opal City as its setting can be credited with reaffirming the utility of DC's fictionopolises, and whose work on that series I read faithfully (even as it degenerated into an incomprehensible plot-bog of evil midgets, because, I suppose, none of us were really safe from the effect of "Twin Peaks" on pop culture).

Miguelito Loveless woulda kicked this guy's ass.

That's the same James Robinson who is currently writing what already feels like a 17-part exposition-fest in Detective about "Two-Face versus Kobra" for no discernible reason, when 'Two-Face versus Kobra" seems like a story that should be told in one page and resolved with Delicious Hostess Fruit Pies.  Props to artist Carmine DiGiandomenico; it LOOKS absolutely gorgeous, so much so that I've actually gone back and 'read' it more than once (without looking at any of the words, of course, because only two issues in I've already reached the point where I expect an evil midget to pop up).

Who knows? That's a big place, there may be an evil midget hiding in there somewhere.

This story is the latest exercise in misunderstanding Two-Face and treating him shallowly under a stupid 'face-pun' title (credit where credit is due: "Deface the Face" is outstandingly stupid). But I'm not here to pick on James Robinson for not understanding Two-Face or even for not understanding how to plot.

I'm here to pick on him for not understanding the words he's using.

Batman has to use an ersatz code-name for Alfred as he chats with him from the field, because Two-Face can hear him (credit where credit is due: it has always been REALLY stupid that Batman just calls Alfred "Alfred" all the time on comms, and the occasional stabs at creating a more usable code-name for him-- like "PennyOne"--have been worse than laughable).  Alfred, who should probably just be glad he's not named Alexa, bridles at his latest stupid codename: "Voice".

By the way, Mr. Dent is not 'in attendance"; it's not a dinner party or a theater show.  
Mr. Dent is "present".  

Alfred refers to it as a 'nom-de-plume'... which it most certainly is NOT.  A 'nom-de-plume' is the name an author writes under (as distinguished from their actual name), such as "George Sand" being the male nom-de-plume of female French writer Amantine Dupin. It literally means "name for the pen"; it's not a synonym for pseudonym, and is used only for pen-names. And Alfred is NOT a writer.

At least now we know who is to blame for the character of Magog and why he's so stupid.

Okay, fine: in CURRENTLY CONTINUITY Alfred is not a writer.  

In this case, it's almost as if Alfred doesn't know the term "nom-de-guerre"... which ALFRED certainly does, even if James Robinson doesn't.

Even wacked-out Elizabeth Kane knows it.

Later on, Robinson has Alfred describe 'Orphan' (speaking of stupid code-names...!) as "an ample opponent":

Resisting the urge to make an obvious Rowland Atkinson joke.

Opponents are not "ample"; superheroes are not "ample".

Okay, fine; MOST superheroes aren't ample.

"Ample" refers to nimiety; it's about the quantity or supply of something.  One can meet 'ample resistance' but not have an 'ample opponent'.  Seems to me as if Robinson is just playing horseshoes with the dictionary and when you are a writer for a living that's unacceptable (especially in English, where you have a LOT of words to work with).  

Robinson's--well, I think I have little choice but to call it "ignorance", despite the large number of English words at my disposal--Robinson's ignorance infects Two-Face's dialogue as well:

It doesn't take a day for a tailor to make a 'Two-Face' suit; would it have killed them to give him a Two-Face suit?! You just know he has an ample supply of them.

Not everyone nowadays knows who or what Pollyanna refers to, but it couldn't be easier to look up.  Robinson here mistakenly has Two-Face use the term to mean 'a goody two-shoes', which is NOT what it means. Pollyanna means someone who is relentlessly positive, cheery, and optimistic regardless of the circumstances.  Honk if you think that's an appropriate description for Batman.

  

Also, in what world would Two-Face NOT choose to use the phrase 'goody TWO shoes" when it's an option?!

I have little choice to conclude that Robinson is a darned lazy writer if he can't be bothered to make sure he knows the meanings of the words he's shoving down the mouths of characters (and which would explain a LOT about how he plots... or fails to). 

The Dark Knight: Alfred

Let's talk about the Dark Knight.

Naturally, I was moved and impressed. Almost everyone who sees it is. It is, as a friend put it, not a Batman movie, but a Batman film. When discussing the film's power, many people focus on the strength of the performances. But that shouldn't be allowed to mask the strength of the material the actors are working with. Thanks to the script, most of the major characters face a strong moral dilemma or two, and unpleasant compromises of their ideals.

Today, let's talk about Alfred.

Alfred

Michael Caine's horridly lower-class accent, by the way, is still like an icepick in my ear, but it seemed a little less harsh this time, as if the icepick were wrapped in velvet while being shoved in my ear.

His character is the voice of tough love -- sort of an icepick wrapped in velvet -- and forces Bruce to realize when he has to make the tough choices in his own dilemmas, and what the right thing to do is. While he succeeds in helping Bruce make his moral choices, I think Alfred's tragedy in this film is that he badly errs when making his own moral choice.

Alfred faces one of the film's quietest and most intimate dilemmas, and his decision to destroy Rachel's note rather than share it with Bruce is also one of the most questionable. Clearly, he thinks Bruce has suffered enough, and a post-mortem rejection isn't really what he needs on his plate.

But, if your life has been anything like mine, you've been hurt far more often and more deeply by people ostensibly trying to spare your feelings than by people actively trying to hurt them.

Who knows? Perhaps Rachel's note might have helped Bruce move on and lessened his burden. In any case, it shouldn't really be Alfred's decision to make; Rachel left to Alfred the decision of when to tell Bruce, not whether to tell him. And make no mistake; Alfred doesn't hide the note away, he burns it.

In keeping the note from Bruce, Alfred is still treating him as a child, not an adult. He deceives Bruce by omission, and proves himself unworthy of the trust Rachel placed in him (and that's to say nothing of the trust that Bruce has placed in him).

Which is worse? Finding out that the person you loved, but weren't realistically ever going to get with anyway (who, I might add, has been very seriously dating someone else), and who's now dead, wasn't planning on waiting for you, or..

finding out that the person who raised you and who continues to be the person you trust more than anyone in the world deceived you about that fact?

Alfred's dilemma and decision don't engender any explosions, societal issues, or life-threatening situations. Yet, I find Alfred's quiet betrayal once the bitterest moments of the film, and perhaps the deepest cut of all.