Absolute Batman #4: ‘Running on the backstreets’

A surefire way to create an enduring superhero is never guaranteed in fiction, but a few methods come close. The Stan Lee adage of alliterative names like Peter Parker, Sue Storm, and Matt Murdock is one way. Another is establishing a rich civilian life through a dedicated supporting cast, like a strong sense of family or community. Maybe the most compelling is building out a sense of duty or career that ties into the hero’s principles on a thematic level.

Matt Murdock is a catholic superhero who’s also a lawyer in his day job. Peter Parker is a skilled scientist but can only work freelance/blue-collar jobs to be Spider-Man. Those dualities create a compelling story engine while speaking to the dual nature of what it means to be a person on and off the block, both at a job and in the spandex. That sense of conflict and characterization is at the forefront of this week’s Absolute Batman. 

Ultimate Batman #4 – based on a story by Scott Synder and Nick Dragotta with a script from Snyder, art by Gabriel Hernández Walta, colors by Frank Martin, and lettering from Clayton Cowles – takes a detour from the present-day Party Animals plot to reveal more about the early days of this Batman. The issue maintains the dual timelines with a spotlight on the time around his father’s murder at the zoo and the first year of Batman. Aiming for a feeling of fear and agony in the hearts of criminals, Bruce adopts a mantle much more akin to the perception of vampires and vicious bats. When the costume doesn’t work, he goes back to the drawing board and continues to develop his persona. 

Between Bruce’s attacks on the Orange Blossom Special – the route of guns, drugs, and other illicit imports from Florida to Gotham – the book flashes back to the lead-up to the attack on the zoo seen in previous issues. An annual competition is held for students to design the best bridge based around an animal, and Bruce’s obsession with bats begins in earnest in these moments. As he continues discussing his bridge designs with his father, Bruce develops design principles that feed into his current suit and mission. Once the final bridge design is confirmed to win thanks to the adaptive nature of bats, present-ish Bruce refines his batsuit and launches his attack on the Falcones and Maronis, crystallizing the nature of this Batman as well. 

Snyder’s scripting in this issue does a stunning job of weaving timelines, utilizing the shifting moments to dig into a strong thematic core. Snyder, in more than any other issue so far, lays the deepest foundation of who the absolute Batman is. This is a vigilante that is more rooted in adaptability and problem-solving over the trained, infinite potential machine found in the main continuity. If the standard Batman is a rich billionaire who could be a surgeon, warrior, detective, thief, etc, then Snyder’s absolute version can only be an engineer. He can twist and turn himself into what’s needed in a moment but he isn’t the primal, archetypal figure with close to 90 years of publishing history. 

What’s so refreshing about this interpretation is exactly that fact, resulting in a character that feels much more streamlined. Snyder channels the essential essence of a Batman finding himself in the streets of Gotham throughout this issue. This Bruce doesn’t traverse the entire world, learning from thieves, world-class sleuths, and martial arts masters. Instead, he drifts through the city and then the wider parts of the country, becoming more attuned to the average person on the ground. The ones most likely caught on a collapsing bridge or under the boot of crime, just like in Gotham. 

Bringing in Walta for the art is an inspired choice due to that fact of perspective. Dragotta’s style is grounded but has a sci-fi specter in the linework and pages, speaking to something a bit more bombastic. Walta’s linework evokes a sense of well-worn, industrial Americana that sings with the heaviness of a Bruce Springsteen song. In the costumed action, bridge-designing flashbacks, and motorcycle sojourn, Walta brings a real sense of world-weariness to the America that could create this version of the DC universe. Pain, struggles, and uncertainty linger in every panel and across every page, evoked through the scratchy yet simple linework. 

Walta’s heartier style also lends itself to the version of Batman that opens the issue, playing up the horror-infused pulp-prototype version of the costume. Splitting the difference between the original Detective Comics design and a horror, vampiric silhouette, the interpretation of the character is immediately striking and in direct contrast to the absolute design. Walta’s design understands the ethos of this universe influenced by Darkseid and the festering resentment within Bruce. At once, the costume is a fun throwback to the pulp roots of the character while still adapting to the present continuity he finds himself in. 

Much of the cohesion and ease with which Walta’s art feels in line with what came before is the result of Martin’s coloring. Especially apparent in the earlier sequences of Bruce building the bridge, the zoo field trip, and the moments during the Joe Chill hearing, Martin’s softer palette evokes the sense of memory like a glossy picture. Only in the past, at the zoo before the tragedy, does the color shine through as a moment of fresh air or beauty. Close is the sequence as Bruce escapes the hazy atmosphere of Gotham and recenters in the natural world of canyons and open skies. It’s a dynamic contrast that speaks to Bruce’s understanding of the bigger picture of the world, where he lives, and what could be. 

Using that as the common touchpoint allows Martin to adapt the colors in the not-quite-present day, as a way to match Walta’s linework. The world is a bit more drab, with a sense of oppressive darkness lingering over it. In the action sequence with the prototype-batsuit, the only splashes of strong color are the reds and yellows of the visible eyes. That detail is what makes the design so unnerving, adding a flash of inhumanity to the humanistic monster approach. The little flourishes that escape the greys, blacks, and dark-beiges of the page become impactful under Martin’s palette, resulting in an issue that feels unique without losing its touchstone to the present-day story and visuals.