Absolute Batman #6: Cloak of Pain

A major undercurrent of the collective fears in the United States right now is the dismantling and degrading of longstanding systems. The erosion of these systems, whether designed from social contracts, economic might, or the necessity of modernity, seems to be accelerating at paces difficult to follow day to day. The pandemic revealed a lot of the flaws in these systems and pushed the issues into peoples’ faces, mostly to be ignored in favor of delusions of normalcy. 

What’s clear in a lot of art, whether it be set in dystopias, apocalypses, or anarchist havens, is that the systems’ erosion is front and center.  Many of these narratives grapple with the idea of systems being restored, through inspiration or force, and whether that is a good idea. Others advocate for ignoring them in favor of protecting the people who made up the system, placing them as a key to happiness. That conflict is clear and present in the first book and arc of the Absolute line, allowing a Batman who thinks and thrives with systems to explore what happens when they begin to break down. 

Absolute Batman #6 – written by Scott Snyder with art by Nick Dragotta, colors by Frank Martin, and lettering by Clayton Cowles – brings the debut arc to a finale that’s less spectacle and more speculation. Black Mask released caches of weapons and Party Animal masks around the city to kick off a brutal anarchic battle royal. Amid the chaos, Mayor Gordon and his deputy, Martha Wayne have to defend themselves from Gothamites ready to kill for the money. Meanwhile, Alfred locates his daughter and loads her on a plane to escape the coming brutality. 

After the rough and tumble fight between Batman and Black Mask in the last issue that is resolved with Bruce falling from a skyscraper, the vigilante holes up in Waylon ‘Killer Croc’ Jones’s bar. Bruce is forced to reveal his identity to Croc, and by extension, his entire group of childhood friends (sans the still MIA Selina). After getting patched up, Cobblepot gives Batman a one-way flight to Black Mask’s yacht, which houses both the servers running the rewards for the killing in Gotham and Black Mask himself. 

Between these moments, the flashbacks grapple with the aftermath of the incident at the zoo, detailing a sleepover with Bruce and all his childhood friends. After a set of nightmares hinged around the incident, Bruce and Martha flipped through family photos, reliving the even further past. The fleeting moments underscore Bruce’s drive in the issue, harnessing his pain and rage to push him forward to help others. Martha’s last speech to a young Bruce echoes as the main story comes to a close, with Batman’s pyrrhic victory being noted by Alfred. 

In each of these plots, Snyder’s script brings both narrative and emotional closure while paving the road for the future of the book. This is a finale that isn’t concerned with neatly tying up every plotline and wiping the slate clean for the corner of the universe. Instead, it’s a punctuation on a bombastic and bigger thesis statement for the series going forward that marks the transition to a more fantastical edge to Gotham. In that respect, the overall story is less of Absolute Year One, and much closer to an Absolute Long Halloween. From the moment the back cover appears during the reading of the issue, it feels evident there is a clear and sustained direction for Batman’s future. The system has been designed and the parts are starting to fall into place, reflecting the engineering aspect of this Bruce’s character.  

What might be the most remarkable thing about The Zoo, even with previously noted complaints and flaws, is how in totality it feels like such a succinct and complete statement. Snyder’s thematic aspirations could be distilled down to the last three pages before the epilogue, expressed powerfully by Martha to the raw nerve that is the younger Bruce. She treats him like an adult and offers emotional support and stitching, then echoed in the present day by Alfred as he begins to patch up Batman. It’s a quieter moment that’s no less powerful, trading for the flashiness of the previous issues for something more substantial.

If the mainline Batman’s essence is that a hero can be driven enough to prepare to the point of near godhood, then Absolute’s core is that pain and darkness can motivate a hero to systemically fight against all the nightmares of the world. It’s a powerful message that feels timeless and very much of the current times, as systems continue to break down and seem poisoned to the common person. 

Even as chaos erupts on the streets of Gotham and the weight of history bears heavy, Snyder manages to imbue moments of levity into the story. There’s a standout moment where the hulking vigilante punts a child-sized alien? metahuman? (the taxonomy of Black Mask’s entourage is still unclear) off the party yacht and into the ocean in a way that resembles kicking a can down the street. Afterward, another of Mask’s entourage comes out and makes the choice to jump in the water willingly, spurred by the action and the terrifying smile of Batman. It’s a quick beat that Dragotta’s art and pacing execute to masterful effect. 

That sense of hyperspecific and stylized pacing is still evident throughout this issue, in both the action and dialogue sequences. Dragotta composes pages in such a way that the moments of Martha reminiscing and comforting young Bruce read just as energetic as the fights. Tight close-ups and smaller panels sandwiched between medium-sized ones are the backbone of the approach and echo the overlying notion of the issue being a concise statement. That layout style also works in contrast to Snyder’s sentences, which flow and are less chopped. Interplaying the two is an instance where form and theme come into compelling conversation. 

While the overall inclusion of Black Mask and his lack of massive overhaul or reinvention is a source of critique for this arc, Dragotta ensures the design and action never are left lacking. Mask and Batman’s final fight over the issue is tense and personal, allowing Dragotta to showcase renderings that are carnal and explicit, including a nasty bit of eye-stabbing and tensed wire choking. It’s in the implicit moments that follow that Dragotta really makes clear the toll that this fight takes. Slipping between past and present in a nine-panel grid is one technique used to imply the aftereffects along with the juxtaposition between hollowed faces on displayed and close-ups of an inhuman Batman. 

Martin’s coloring jumps into these moments to underline the emotion and elevate the scenes to a new level. Flashes of red lighting on the faces and then blood splatterings on Batman highlight the heightened anger and carnage in this scene. Martin makes excellent use of alternating shades of red to illicit similar responses, showcasing the masterful deployment of color in the sequence. The red will occur and fluctuate a few more times in the sequence, culminating in a splash page that uses it as a background to emphasize the pure agony caused by Batman. Its use around Black Mask’s broken helmet and its sheen creates an implication of leaking blood that Dragotta doesn’t illustrate. Martin instead leads the reader into the outcome of the fight, weaving the implied image from the specter of what comes next. 

When the book’s palette swings out of the red, rich blues and greens become the other central tone. That coloring choice is most apparent in the flashbacks and on the final pages before the epilogue, casting a calmer tone to the moments. Even as nightmares and wounds litter the sequences, the coloring overlays a sense of quiet comfort and resilience, implying the breaking of dawn from the night. Martin’s range of colors is spectacular and makes for compelling oscillation. 

The final page, which is an epilogue to The Zoo, allows for one last swing thanks to the use of a white that feels both sterile and grime-covered all at once broken up by the deep reds of inflamed veins receding on the presumed Joker. The moment is colored unlike anything else in the issue, and returns to that earlier notion that there feels to be a clear future in place for both the writing and visual language of the series.