Absolute Batman #5: Wanna Know How I Got These Motivations?

A fear, when a creator returns to a work or character they’ve found a resolution to, is that it will come across as a hollow echo of before. It was a fear that Doctor Who fans had when Russell T. Davies (and Steven Moffat) returned for the most recent revamp. It’s also a common echo in the mind with comics, especially when a creator returns to a title or character they had a seminal run on. What can result is an attempt to make the book, through science or magic, exactly as it was in that previous time. Or, on the other end of things, the creator is distracted by trying to do something so different that it sits apart from what came before. The tension hangs over Absolute Batman as the book moves closer to the end of the opening arc (but not the end of the book). 

Absolute Batman #5 – written by Scott Synder with art by Nick Dragotta, coloring by Frank Martin, and lettering by Clayton Cowles – pits the hulking Dark Knight against Black Mask, as Bruce moves after accepting the money from the previous deal. After a slick motorcycle ride, the two face off, offering a brutal fight that leads to Batman being trapped under a net after burning Black Mask’s money. After a brutal repose by Black Mask, Batman is tossed like a ragdoll from the highrise and the villain makes his declaration to Gotham to indulge in chaos and violence. Intercut with this present plot is a flashback to the fallout of Bruce falling in with the bats and words of comfort from Jim Gordon after the zoo murder. 

Snyder delivers a gut-punching, brutal fight-centric issue that works best in the flow of the issue but leaves some lingering questions once the back cover is closed. The structure of Batman and Black Mask’s confrontation is well-plotted and paced, even if the specific motivations for the villain still feel messy. On the technical level, the beats feel attuned to the story that Snyder is unraveling, creating an interesting domino structure that offers organic twists and a compelling reversal. The plotting here is firing on all cylinders and is a clear result of Synder’s continued storytelling technique refinements.

A big revelation of the issue is a supposed backstory for Black Mask after he’s defeated Batman and kicked him off a building. He recounts to Gotham a story of helping to slaughter pigs on a farm as a child, focusing on the brief flash of euphoria that the animals experience before death. It’s an interesting idea that Snyder forefronts as the end result of this arc, using it as a springboard for the finale of this debut. 

Where the revelation and overall motivation shudders is in the character utilizing it. Choosing Black Mask as the antagonist is one of the weaker aspects of this arc, with Synder using him as a blank slate with a loose connection to the wealthy upper class. In a story that is working to establish this refracted version of Gotham, the choice to include Mask felt at odds with the overall designs. It splits the difference between the two modern approaches to establishing Batman, with Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli’s Year One lacking any costumed villain, while Snyder and Greg Capullo’s Zero Year uses multiple. It’s the dichotomy of Batman versus a system or the individual, which Snyder expertly threads in Absolute. His foe is a system that still retains elements of the individual, even as they are clad in dehumanizing masks. 

The odd sensation of the story and general motivation is that this feels much more akin to a possible modern revamp of the Joker and the Red Hoods. It’s clear that Snyder has plans for the Clown Prince of Crime based on some teases in previous issues, but there’s a fascinating element of evoking joy and ephemeral pleasure in the moments before death that feels right up the jester’s alley. Using it on Black Mask feels like a bit of a waste for an excellent reimagining of what motivates a psychotic killer who chooses to dress as a symbol once reserved for making others laugh. 

The choice of Mask also reads somewhat like a challenge of reinventing a character that’s struggled to work while allowing Snyder to put some distance from his previous work. Red Hood and his gang were a vital part of Zero Year that gave way to the New 52 Joker, so the desire to flip the script in that regard is understandable. A real challenge for a creator returning to a character they’ve worked on in the past is the trappings of well-intentioned recycling. Another testament to Synder, as a writer and storyteller, is a continued push to hit different notes across the wider DC canvas. It’s completely possible that Snyder has some additional twists up his sleeve regarding the character but in the text of the issue, there’s just a tension between what Black Mask is embodying and what actually unfolds on the page. 

Even with that tension in the storytelling and character motivations, the book remains an adrenaline shot thanks to Dragotta’s art. Returning after Gabriel Hernández Walta’s noir-twinged interlude, Dragotta brings a visceral intensity to the page layouts and kinetic action of the fight. The continued use of small, tight panels framing close-ups and action beats ensures that there is no loss of the physical impacts that come from the fighting, creating a cascading causal rhythm that thrumbs on the page. A seven or 14-panel page alike can generate a fluid, dynamic stretch of fight that draws the reader in and leaves them flipping through with bated breath. 

Dragotta makes two deviations from the tight, tiny panels in this issue, resulting in two powerful images. The first is in the flashback timeline, with a double-page splash title card. An expansive tapestry of Bruce, his mother, his friends, and Jim Gordon stand vigil at Thomas Wayne’s funeral. Dragotta renders the moment with a deft hand, infusing a deep sense of solemn reflection in the shadow-drenched faces. Young Bruce and his mother are the left flushed focus, with Martha offering an arm of comfort while Bruce stands resolved, expression blank through the continued use of shadow. It’s a striking title card that feels familiar but rendered through Dragotta’s unique style. The rendering of Bruce and Marta together is a captivating change that speaks to the wider experiment of the Absolute line. 

The second break from the standard rhythm of the book is a single-page splash that kicks off the fight with Black Mask. Batman reveals what he used Black Mask’s hush money for, burning it to create the Absolute bat-signal. It illuminates the Gotham night sky, shining bright above the hulking figure of a Batman prepared to fight. This scene feels like the crystallization of this Batman and his mission, allowing Dragotta to cement his mark on the dark knight iconography. Reading like a rallying cry and firm punctuation point, shifting the image into the singular instead of multiple through dense panels. 

Martin’s coloring continues to define these physical spaces in both the dense panels and sparse pages alike, oscillating between two primary coloring effects. In the flashbacks, there’s a hazy, ethereal approach that conveys the feeling of staring through clouded glass into an unfolding moment. Even as history is essential to this Bruce, the effect of having his mother still in his life possibly softens some of the sharpness of the past. 

Contrasted with the present, which continues that necessary sharpness in the day-to-day coloring choices. Even when the book breaks into the stylized hues that background gnarly action beats like a talon slash or defensive shoulder spike attack, there’s a clarity to the tones that Martin uses to striking effect. It’s a compelling choice that results in a book that distinctly forms past and present on a coloring level, allowing the craft to underscore the plot and characterization on a foundational level.