Dick is joined by Bruce’s ten-year-old genetically-engineered trained-by-assassins son Damian as Robin. It’s an interesting dynamic, allowing Morrison to write a relatively light-hearted Batman and a rather dour and serious Robin ( “you sound just like,” the Joker observes before a beating, “like him” – referring to Bruce), an inversion of the usual duo dynamic. Grant Morrison’s relaunched Batman & Robin follows the supposed death of Bruce Wayne, with the original Robin, Dick Grayson, adopting the identity in order to preserve his mentor’s legacy.

Perhaps, then, it’s because Batman & Robin sets itself a more modest goal (in that it doesn’t attempt to reconcile every aspect of the character’s seventy-year history) or just because Morrison appears to be enjoying himself far more, but this second act in Grant Morrison’s epic Batman saga is a much more engaging read. Yes, Batman can be the grim avenger or the charming ladies’ man or the camp crusader or the superhero or the urban vigilante or the world’s greatest detective or a swinging icon, but – in reading Morrison’s run – it felt too awkward to make Batman all of these at the same time. It felt a bit awkward and continuity-heavy – don’t get me wrong, I appreciated his attempt to tie together just about every aspect and iteration of Batman ever, but it just felt a bit too much.

I didn’t love Grant Morrison’s tenure on Batman. Every Wednesday this month, we’ll have a Grant Morrison related review or retrospective. December is “Grant Morrison month” here at the m0vie blog, as we take the month to consider and reflect on one of the most critically acclaimed (and polarising) authors working in the medium.

Batman by grant morrison