The Not-So-New 52: Batman – Hush (2019)

Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomer is watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons. 

Jeph Loeb is an interesting figure in comics. After a couple of notable writing credits in the 80s (including the script of the original Michael J. Fox Teen Wolf and a “story by” credit for the Schwarzenegger vehicle Commando), he went on to pen some of the best mainstream comic book material that the medium had to offer in the decade before and after the turn of the millennium. Batman: The Long Halloween was a particularly seminal work that had a profound impact on the public’s relationship with the character in both the short term (as it was very popular in its day) and the long term (as an influence on the Nolan films about the character, which created a world that we’re all still living in the fallout of). Like today’s topic, Long Halloween also got an adaptation in one of these movies and thus will get its own discussion in the coming months, don’t you worry. He also wrote the Superman/Batman arcs that Public Enemies and Apocalypse are based upon, and he was the driving narrative force for the Supergirl series that comic spun off in 2005, about which I have spoken positively in the past. Outside of DC, he’s fairly well known for his work on X-Men projects as well as stories related to the Hulk, including the creation of Red Hulk, and he still worked on TV and film projects, including involvement with the first season of Heroes at the same time that he was writing Supergirl; he ended up co-executive producing 56 episodes of that, 12 episodes of Lost, and 66 episodes of Smallville. That’s before you get into the fact that he was one of the creative forces behind the pre-Disney+ era of Marvel’s TV wing; he exec-produced 18 episodes of Agent Carter, 26 episodes of Luke Cage, 23 episodes of Iron Fist, 24 episodes of The Punisher, 39 episodes each of Jessica Jones and Daredevil, and 136 episodes of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. 

Hush was released in 2002, and was a smash hit at the time, critically and commercially. Penned by Loeb and with art from Batman superstar Jim Lee, the comic was a nice bit of mystery, playing with the introduction of a new villain—the titular Hush—whose machinations to take on the Dark Knight involved manipulation of several other longtime Bat-antagonists. This gave the new villain some instant credibility for a late addition to the rogues gallery. All this is to say that, for many, Loeb is a sacred cow. This is a man who has had a foot in each of the worlds of four color and Technicolor for decades, and who has shaped what that medium and its associated adaptations have meant, quite a lot. For that reason, there are people who can be a bit … let’s say “precious” about his work and its adaptations, and this film adaptation of Hush was no exception. Of course, as someone who read Marvel’s Ultimates 3 (2008) and Ultimatum (2009) as they were published, the two comics that, alongside DC’s Final Crisis (2008) and the one-two punch of Marvel’s Civil War (2007) and Secret Invasion (2008), were the reason that I stopped reading comics, I’m not going to die on any hills for him. 

The film opens with Bruce Wayne (Jason O’Mara) headed for a black-tie function, where he encounters Selina Kyle (Jennifer Morrison), with whom he has some romantic tension in both his identities, although she remains unaware that Bruce and Batman are one and the same. It’s been a few years since she last was involved with any criminal activity and, perhaps because the Bruce of this continuity was privy to the internal conflict Clark experienced about telling Lois his secret in Death of Superman, Bruce considers whether it’s time for his own confession. Their flirtation is twice interrupted, first by the sudden appearance of Bruce’s childhood friend, a nationally renowned neurosurgeon named Thomas Eliot (Maury Sterling), then by a call from Alfred regarding the kidnapping of a child by Bane; the latter of these prompts Bruce to depart. He confronts Bane and saves the boy, but he sees Catwoman escaping with the missing ransom and pursues her, with interference from an unknown third party wrapped in bandages and wearing a trenchcoat resulting in Batman falling to the streets and being badly injured. After Alfred and Nightwing (Sean Maher) craft a cover story involving playboy Bruce Wayne getting involved in a car accident (and sending Batgirl off to wrap one of the Wayne estate’s many expensive cars around a tree), they take him to see Dr. Thomas Eliot, who manages to stabilize him. When he awakes, Bruce commits to being a better friend to Thomas in a tender scene, while the doctor remains wryly amused at the situation, notably mentioning that Bruce isn’t even the most notorious patient he’s had; he exits the room with a smirk. Gee, I wonder who this new villain could be under all that mummy wrap? 

Except … Thomas Eliot is not Hush (as we will soon learn that this new criminal mastermind is named), as was the case in the comic. Here, the man behind all of these actions is someone else entirely. We’ll come back to that, but first, one of the other major status quo changes that the 2002 comic ushered in was that, from that point forward, Catwoman would be aware that Bruce was Batman. This happens in the film as in the comic as Bruce reveals himself to Selina, following on the heels of the revelation that Catwoman (as well as others, including Bane) have been made unwitting pawns via applied use of Poison Ivy’s mind control pheromones. Bruce decides to bring her in on everything, and she becomes an effective, if less selfless, member of the Bat team. The way that we see this play out initially is a nice bit of foreshadowing, as the duo of Batman and Catwoman follow Ivy’s trail to Metropolis, which results in them having to face off against an Ivy-puppeted Superman. Batman is convinced that, even under pheromone control, some semblance of the person being controlled is able to use their willpower to mitigate what they are being forced to do; he has Selina kidnap Lois Lane and take her to the top of the Daily Planet building in the hopes that this will break through Clark’s mind control. When it doesn’t, Selina throws Lois off, which does finally cause Clark to break free and save her, and while Bruce takes the heat for this from Clark, his later conversation with Selina confirms that he told her explicitly not to let Lois fall. 

Selena’s lack of the same (perhaps self destructive) moral code that compels Bruce to attempt to save the lives of his foes even at the risk of his own comes back around in the end. In the climax, Bruce manages to catch Hush with one of his infamous grappling lines before the latter can fall to his fiery death, but the building is coming apart around them and Selina isn’t willing to put herself or her lover to the test to save a killer. She performs the cold calculus of cutting a rope and letting Hush fall so that they can escape certain death rather than complete a performative pyrrhic moral victory. Ultimately, this is what prevents the couple from remaining together, and this shifting of assumptions makes for a more interesting story than if things had been perfect for them, even if you (like me) kinda ship it. This is a slightly more sophisticated story than a lot of these others, because the relationship dynamics are more mature than what normally comes down this pipeline. It’s not Hitchcock’s Notorious or anything, but it’s noteworthy, even if it’s not breaking any molds. 

That breakup happens at the end of Loeb’s Hush as well, albeit with the slightest of differences, The big departure, as noted above, is that Thomas Eliot is revealed not to be Hush, although this Hush was a patient of his, and Eliot ends up suffering the consequences of not being able to live up to his reputation as a miracle worker with this person. I won’t spoil who this turns out to be (if you must be spoiled, Wikipedia can do that for you, but I would suggest going in blind even if I’ve already revealed that it doesn’t stick to the source material’s choice), but it’s an interesting and fun choice, even if you’re already familiar with the comic. This was, of course, something that people got up in arms about, but I’m pleased with it. The impulse for a mystery to be solved exactly the same way in an adaptation as in the original text is a boring one, and a preference for strict adherence to canon rather than pleasant surprise at a novel addition to the experience reflects a shallowness of imagination, if you ask me. 

I’m reasonably certain that I gave this a sort of half-assed watch sometime during the early days of quarantine, which lines up with the timeline of when it would have hit streaming. As such, and not really thinking about it at the time as a part of an ongoing story, I thought at the time that this one functioned suitably as a standalone adaptation of Hush, as I didn’t even realize it as being of a piece with a larger continuity. Watching it now, I’m surprised that I didn’t find it odd that we had a handful of check-ins with minor characters who feel completely extraneous without some foundational knowledge about this subfranchise. I’m reasonably pleased that we had a final check-in with, for instance, Damian, as I don’t expect him to play much of a role in the upcoming Wonder Woman: Bloodlines or the “series finale” of Justice League Dark: Apocalypse War, but it also feels like a stumbling block for anyone who might see this in a Redbox without context and decide to rent it. Like the comics themselves, this “DCAMU” (I’m so looking forward to no longer taking psychic damage every time I type that acronym) has gotten too self-referential to grow its audience, which is why we’re headed for that inevitable reboot after just two more installments. Although these movies have risen above the median a few times, there’s a lack of richness in the storytelling that elevates the rare number of these DTV animated products to be anything more than cynically driven cash-ins here. Damian’s scene is just a cute little cameo with a couple of quips thrown in, but with the knowledge that these halcyon days coming to an end, I can’t help but think that it’s annoying they made yet another Batman movie when it might have been nice to see another Justice League movie, or checked in on the Teen Titans one last time; they keep being mentioned as doing something offscreen, but are never involved. 

I suppose that’s why this one is a bit of a mixed bag critically, especially in comparison to the original comic. For people who are interested in the larger storyline of this universe, this is a fine story, but nothing to write home about, while those who are interested in the film as an adaptation are largely represented in the discourse by people who were dissatisfied with the extent of its faithfulness. I appreciated that this one did something that this series hadn’t really done before and fully committed to making a film that could be slotted into “romance” as a genre, but it’s not one that I foresee myself giving much thought in the future.

-Mark “Boomer” Redmond

The Not-So-New 52: Batman – The Killing Joke (2016)

Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomer is watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons. 

When we were recently discussing Brandon’s viewing of Theodore Rex on the podcast, he talked about how it was comforting to know that there are movies that have been universally derided as bad which are, in fact, bad. Batman: The Killing Joke has the lowest Rotten Tomatoes score out of any of these movies; although there are nine films that didn’t get enough reviews to provide a score, that list of non-scored films includes some of the best, like All Star Superman and Crisis on Two Earths. Rotten Tomatoes is, as we always say, an imperfect criterion, but because it got a one-day theatrical release in order to generate buzz, it also has the highest number of reviews on that site with forty-one critics weighing in (the next highest, Batman: The Long Halloween, Part One, has nineteen reviews), so in this case, it bears out in the critical response. It’s true: this one is bad bad. I always assumed that it generated a negative response because it’s an adaptation of a truly top-tier Batman (and Joker) story, and that people simply didn’t like some of the changes that were made to it or were otherwise disappointed. I had also heard rumblings about the “character assassination” of Barbara Gordon/Batgirl, which at the time seemed like typical Comic Book Guy grumblings, but no, that part is true as well. If anything, all the backlash against it that I remember seeing at the time was insufficient to express just what a fucking disaster this is. 

The film starts with voiceover from Batgirl (Tara Strong), as she opens with a fourth-wall wink about how we the viewers probably didn’t expect this story to begin this way. The first half, which is all new material, is mostly about her. She watches from afar as her father, the venerable Commissioner Gordon (Ray Wise), meets with her Batmentor (Kevin Conroy, our beloved); she becomes the obsessive fixation of the unlikely named Paris Franz (Maury Sterling), an upstart crime family scion who aims to decapitate and replace the organization’s leadership; she even gets a catty gay best friend with whom she works at the library and who provides a sounding board for her thinly disguised musings about her crush on Batman. Yep, that’s right. Barbara has the hots for Bruce in this one, and that relationship culminates. See, he gets on her about taking too many risks in her pursuit of Franz, and the narrative goes out of its way to make him correct, as she consistently gets in over her head and has to be rescued by Batman. Every scene in which she strikes out on her own, he has to bail her out, so yeah, you could say that one of the most beloved and competent characters in the canon does undergo character assassination, for sure. This eventually leads up to the two of them having an argument before she pins the older man down, and they have sex. 

I’ve seen this scene described as being “played for fanservice” in certain parts of the internet, and I don’t think that’s the case at all. What happens on screen takes barely a few seconds; Barbara is on top of Bats, she straddles him fully clothed and takes off the top half of her costume to reveal her bra, and the camera does a (to me) comical pan up to a gargoyle statue on the rooftop with them that appears to be enjoying the show. I’ve also seen a lot of criticism about that tired canard about age gap issues, and I also personally do not see a problem with that here. Bruce could have done more to discourage her, but as she is the initiator and the most enthusiastic participant, even with absolutely no previous encouragement from Bruce, my judgment is that she’s completely in control and has full agency in the situation. She’s got a thing for an emotionally unavailable older man, she gets her rocks off, and afterward, she talks to her one-dimensional gay BFF about how good it was. The problem here is that, shortly after this, she shakes off the cowl and hood for good when she nearly beats Franz to death and retires, then disappears from the narrative until it’s time for her to play her role in the part of the movie that’s actually an adaptation of The Killing Joke from 1988.

In the second half of the film, Batman comes to the realization that one day, he and the Joker will reach a point where the only choice will be to kill the villain or be killed by him. In an effort to try and prevent this, he goes to see Joker in Arkham, only to realize that the man himself has escaped yet again and left a decoy in his place. Elsewhere, Joker obtains an amusement park and a new band of sideshow folks—conjoined ladies, wolf boy, bearded lady, etc.—to act as his goons du jour. Interspersed in his new plans are flashbacks to before he became the Clown Prince of Crime. He was a comedian who couldn’t support his family, so he took a job with a local crime syndicate that was supposed to be for only one night; on the day of the heist, he learns his wife and unborn child were killed, but he’s strong-armed into moving forward with the crime anyway; when the robbery he’s involved in goes south, Batman arrives and he is frightened into falling over the edge into a vat of chemicals, which turns him into the Joker we know. Once everything is all arranged, he kidnaps Jim Gordon from his home and, in the process, shoots Barbara in her torso, the bullet ripping through her body and rendering her paraplegic. He also does something … untoward with her. Trigger warning for assault; skip to the next paragraph if that’s not something you can handle. You see, in the comic, I never got the impression that Joker raped Barbara. He definitely sexually assaulted her, as he stripped her and took pictures of her nude, gunshot body so that he could further torture Gordon with these images (the image of him holding his camera is the most iconic frame from the comic), but this film takes it further. When Batman is informed of the state that Barbara was in when she was found, much is left unsaid, and it’s implied that the Joker took advantage of her, beyond photography. The manhunt for Joker leads to a group of sex workers who tell the investigator with whom they are talking that the villain normally comes straight to them first as soon as he escapes, but that they haven’t heard from him and assume that this means he was able to get his kicks elsewhere. And that’s part of what makes this movie not just bad, but gross. We get two additions to the narrative here about Barbara’s sexuality: one a desired, consensual encounter with Batman, and the other a non-consensual assault by the Joker, with the former being added to the narrative to raise the stakes of the latter, not for Barbara’s sake, but for Bruce’s. See, now it’s even worse because Joker took that from him, too. 

The rest of the story plays out along the canonical narrative beats of the comic on which the film is based. Batman goes to the amusement park lair, he and Joker have a little cat and mouse game where they talk about their relationship and how it appears that it can only end one way, and Batman tries to get through to his insane archnemesis that things could be different and offers him another path. Jim Gordon survives Joker’s attempts to turn him into another Joker by breaking him psychologically. At the end, Joker is subdued, and he tells Batman a joke about two escaping asylum inmates that demonstrates the futility of one insane person trying to help the other, which forces even the dour Bats to laugh. Barbara awakens in the hospital and is on the road to recovery (if you’re curious, no, her friend never comes to see her and we never hear about him again after his last scene, because he’s just that superfluous), and we see her prepare to get to work fighting crime in a new way. Fin. 

I hated this. The animation is lazy in ways that I didn’t think I’d see in one of these productions (there seem to be about a dozen different book spines that were drawn for the movie, and they are repeated endlessly in both Barbara’s home and in the library scenes, sometimes in huge groups). The narrative choices are abysmal and so grossly misogynistic that the decades-old source material, which was criticized as sexist in its day, feels more modern. In this line of work and especially as the torch-bearers of low-art-as-real-art that we of Swampflix have been slotted into by the appetite for trash that drew us together in the first place, we end up revisiting a lot of things that mainstream (and armchair) critics have designated as “bad movies.” It’s simply in our nature to find the fun and joy in these, to see what glisters in the crap, and our evaluation is positive. However, as with Brandon and Theodore Rex, sometimes a film comes along that reminds you that, yeah, movies can be bad, actually, and that not everything to which that appellation is applied is a secret gem waiting to be unearthed. Sometimes, garbage is just garbage. 

-Mark “Boomer” Redmond