Batman #2 – Robin Rides At Dawn

The launch of Matt Fraction’s reign over the Batman title established many things, the most important being his ethos behind the voice and character of Bruce Wayne, along with a focus on smaller plots that carry big heart. While the execution of such may have been mixed for us here at Comic Watch, this second issue is the skillful execution of that ethos we wished the first had been. Although the overarching plot established at the end of this issue may continue a disappointing streak of familiarity, the character-driven execution is more than enough to keep readers flowing from issue to issue with a smile on their face.

Taking a page out of storytelling motifs seen most recently over the fence in The Amazing Spider-Man, this issue runs the reader between poignant memories of parental guidance for Tim that intercede with the issue’s core narrative conflict. In that lies dialogue and emotional beats that glow with three-dimensional warmth.

Fraction utilizes the familial relationship between Bruce and his wards beyond the typical Tumblr cuteness many have fallen into as a way of justifying their reigning presence in the main Batman title. There’s a tangible realness—a sweet yet realistic sense of sibling rivalry born out of insecurity and power between Tim and Damian—alongside an imperfect but truly caring sense of fatherliness from Bruce. Seeing how that care affects Tim’s maturity as Robin in the future, and how he elevates that position beyond being a mere stepping stone to a solo title, reaffirms Fraction’s point. Without leaning on nostalgia or fanboy-isms, he shows why Robin is not a sidekick but a partner to Batman.

While the character writing is dynamic and rich, the story struggles in the back half with originality and thematic execution. The ride is enjoyable, but once you dig into what Fraction is trying to say on a plot level, you hit the same point of criticism we had for issue #1. Superheroes dealing with police brutality—especially in the pages of a Batman comic—requires a level of nuance that acknowledges Bruce’s own brutality while not simply reducing abuses of power to murder and nothing more. This is why, typically, the idea has been explored through political corruption and the dynamics of class mobility within Gotham City. Confronting the issue at its simplest can be thematically effective, but the presentation of it here falls flat.

The re-established air of conflict between the Dynamic Duo and the GCPD reads as “if they aren’t with us, they’re against us,” rather than as a direct moral conflict on their part. Because this book leans toward the lighter side, that angle feels shallow. To make matters worse, this is a major conflict we’ve already seen countless times in Batman comics, leaving this supposed “bold new era” feeling like anything but. As a status quo, it enriches the power dynamics across Gotham, but an entire plot focused on it is where the repetition lies. A less performative, richer, and more carefully woven introduction to this well-worn plot could have made it feel as fresh as the character work—but alas, that isn’t what we’re working with here.

As for the art, it seems Jorge Jimenez has locked back in, going above and beyond with his storytelling quirks that give his momentous, anime-like action sequences a weight beyond the “rule of cool.” All of the tension following Tim as he works to not just save himself but also Batman is elevated by the multi-layered paneling, which is paced to give the characters breathing room right when it’s necessary. When their guard is down, when their confidence rises above the drain of adrenaline, Jimenez pulls out into a looseness that makes Tim’s claustrophobic fight for survival exhilarating. The coloring team supports this with excellent choices that give each panel a moment to both tell the story and push it forward with fluidity.