TERRIFIC TEAM-UP IMAGE: JOKERS THEN & NOW (REAL & IMAGINED)

I saw Harley Quinn: Season 4

Instead of speculating on Max's (ten-episode) Harley Quinn: Season 4 when it was poised to premiere, I decided to wait till it closed to share my views. 

 

I'll say this, it's as facetious as ever, though I do believe the Quinn/Poison Ivy (Kaley Cuoco/Lake Bell) relationship has outspent its novelty. (Ivy's many hard-up, corporate meetings, not to mention a major, Time Sphere, dystopic, Robin-ruled "mishap," with charitable, Nora Freeze/Captain Cold/Mama Macaroni/Bane [Rache Datch/Ben Levin/Janeane Garofalo/James Adomian] spillage, rocked the bond to instability or make that, near unlikeability.) It's time for a vengeful split and all the heated hijinks that come with it, especially if Dr. Psycho (Tony Hale) returns full time, abetting one gal or the other, or better yet, pulling the cerebral strings of both. (Hey, I can dream, can't I?) 

The season played best when it dished Quinn's pledge for good. Her caped-crusader stint made her a surrogate Jack Skellington. She meant well, but still screwed up. She's sure no Mary Sue (thank goodness); but then, when she bashed in Professor Pyg (Tom Hollander)'s skull, her Clockwork Orange excessiveness was a trifle hard to digest (as much as it was in previous seasons when she slayed Penguin and Mad Hatter; is nothing sacred?).  

On the additional downside, there were moments when Season 4 got, well, just plain nauseating. I'm referring, in particular, to King Shark (Ron Funches)' obnoxious hammerheaded wife, Tabitha (Mary Holland). That whole pregnancy process was shiver-my-timbers slimy (I mean, yuck!), though tame compared to Tabitha's biting, verbal abuse. I don't like King Shark being belittled that way, even if it's just in a DC, alternate-reality cartoon, where the events needn't be taken as ubiquitous gospel. (Nevertheless, I was grateful for tipsy Security Guard Jim Gordon [Christopher Meloni] giving our mortified majesty some sound, parental advice.) 

On another comparative perch, I believe The Bat Family (Harvey Guillen/Jacob Tremblay/Briana Cuoco) satisfied up to a point, with Nightwing being the stand-out, except (WTF!?) he gets killed: a cruel ruse, like Batman's death in Titans, or so I assumed. I mean, Batgirl's fleeting "demise" wasn't quite what it seemed in Episode 9. Uh, Oracle, anyone? 

At least Talia al Ghul (Mary Elasmar) stayed on sexy cue (in her inimitable, snooty way), as Clayface (Alan Tudyk) reigned as Vegas' impersonator supreme (Frank Gorshin move over!); but Bruce and Alfred (Hollander and Diedrich Bader) tossed behind bars struck too close for comfort (in light of what's now in real-life motion). The same can be said of socialist Joker (Tudyk)'s mayoral criminality (he seeks a return to villainy, when in truth, he's been villainous all along) and Lex Luthor (Giancarlo Guiseppe Alessandro Espisito)'s Legion of Doom, PR/climate-change claptrap (and the prissy gents who ensure the spread of evil as separate bastards or when joined as a colossal whole). None of it should be tolerated (unless comeuppance is delivered, and it's not until maybe, like, the end sorta, for which I'm kinda grateful). And yet to rub salt on the ever widening wound, the linking setup mimics what the mainstream presents and promotes each and every lifelong day. I don't mind allegory and allusion (in fact, I'm apt to welcome such with open arms), but gee whiz, this stuff friggin stung and then some!

In the end, I found Season 4 a mixed bag. Its "toxic" jest often tickled my funny bone, but also tended to make me sigh. Whenever that happened, I considered hitting pause and escaping into a Three Stooges short, where the violence is funny, but the current-affair rhetoric sparse. Oh, well, it is what it is. If Harley Quinn: Season 5 surfaces (and it should, if only to inflate Nightwing's resurrection-from-The Lazarus Pit revenge ... okay, I gave it away), you can rest assured, I'll be watching. 

An Alternate Reality: I saw Injustice...

DC/WB's newest, animated endeavor, Injustice, is based on the top-selling, Gods Among Us video games and Tom (Suicide Squad) Taylor's prequel, comic-book saga, even though these sources have thus far eluded me. 

I found Injustice entertaining enough, perhaps because I had no choice but to enter it cold. However, I can only go so far liking stories that turn heroes into villains for the sake of instilling some clever contrast. (Even The Boys rattles me on occasion for all its flippant self-assurance.) Anyhow, it bothers me when good guys go rogue, no matter the melodramatic spin, and seeing Superman and Wonder Woman turn Zod/Ursa-like (even per understandable, if not logical, prompts) was surreal in a nightmarish way. (Heck, The Flashpoint Paradox proves problematic in the same way for me, even though I hold it in high regard.)

I also have trouble when heroes who've been depicted as friends betray one another or slug it out due to philosophical differences. Sure, I found Batman v Superman digestible (Captain America: Civil War, too), but as a rule of thumb, ironic, "good-vs-good" clashes (whether by DC or Marvel) are plagued, or perhaps anointed depending on my mindset, by great ambivalence. Injustice contains many such tug-of-war clashes, to the point that it was hard for me to decide which side was the better (or lesser) of the conflicting coin: a disturbing sensation, and still I watched with bated breath.  

To hoist to the perplexity, the story's rifts include cherished, all-American favorites riding the unorthodox edge, not only Superman and Wonder Woman, but such analogous icons as Batman, Nightwing, Robin (Damian Wayne), Catwoman, Aquaman, Hawkman, Cyborg, Supergirl, Jonathan (Pa) Kent, Starman, Shazam, (Captain Marvel), Captain Atom, Plastic Man, Mr. Terrific (Michael Holt), Green Arrow, Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), et al. There's also Amazo, a mechanical menace who gives Superman IV's Nuclear Man a mega run for his destructive money, but his manifestation stews from a peculiar, protective plan, congruent with the story's character upheaval. 

For what it's worth, Batman stays pretty much in sync with his somber side, but even so, he's embroiled in a kind of distrusting contention (as he presses to topple the Man of Steel) that runs against his attentive grain, making his inclusion awkward in the story's later phases (in the pacifist-cusp vein), and I don't like the Dark Knight awkward, even if Anson (The Inhumans) Mount (who was once a contender for a live-action Caped Crusader) grants him an adjuring voice. 

The Joker, on the other hand, is Injustice's counterpoising rescuer for the time he lasts, mainly because he doesn't flinch from his old, sadistic self, and how he leads Kal-El to cause Lois Lane's demise is but par for his sick course. (Beforehand, the Clown Prince of Crime dispatches shocking attacks on Jimmy Olsen, the Flash and all of Metropolis.) Because of the villain's carryover craziness, I was more at ease with him than any other character (though Harley Quinn, Ra's al Ghul and Mirror Master also ride a restful road), but why should I be okay not rooting against Bruce Wayne's pinnacle arch nemesis, especially when he takes his impulses to the apex of offense? Evil is evil, right? (I suppose that's Superman and Wonder Woman's point.) 

In the film's indubitable favor, Matt Peters' direction and Ernie Altbacker's script do speed the reformist procession along in such a way that its harshest parts don't sting for very long (and Nightwing's transcendental, Deadman alteration and Plastic Man's impertinent observations nearly blunt the subsequent mourning), but once the imposing ugliness is etched, it's impossible to erase, despite the plot inserting a shaky reconciliation. (Incidentally, the movie's Superman-v-Superman moment is the misadventure's staggering turn, but its attempt to set the Kryptonian's stance straight falls short of Superman III's dueling irony and inference.) 

I felt obligated to add Injustice to my disc library. I'm not ashamed to place it alongside other such offbeat, DC revisions. I take it for the indignant thing that it is, and though it often rocked me to the moral core, I'm bound to revisit it: a grim confession that screams contradictory but sincere volumes.   

I saw the Long Halloween (Part 1)...

Culled from the celebrated, 13-part epic by writer Jeph Loeb and artist Tim Sale, Batman: the Long Halloween (Part One) is the start of something grand, acting as an important portion for one of DC/WB's most emotional, animated endeavors. 

This chapter is wrapped within a traditional, noir-esque, Dark Knight mode. Translated for the screen by Tim (Superman: Man of Tomorrow) Sheridan and directed by Chris (How to Train Your Dragon) Palmer, Long Halloween #1 is uneasy and frightful, but never so much so as to fall straight into all-out horror. This one skims the fringe and teases in a mean but mirthful way, rather like Chinatown and/or the Godfather, though with the occasional flash of fangs. 

The plot centers the serial Holiday Killer, who leaves a bemusing, Jack-o'-lantern clue with his first victim, crime-king Carmine Falcone's nephew. In the midst of the ensuing bloodshed, a jealous Joker flees Arkham to stomp the attention-stealing competition, further complicating the investigation. Indeed, the set-up may sound standard, but as with its comic-book counterpart, the movie's chilly execution seasons the stew, and it's a ton of sinister fun to experience the crisp mood unfold. (Michael {Zorpo!} Gall's music spices it real nice: menacing, morbid and kinetic throughout.) 

Catwoman, Calendar Man, Solomon Grundy, Alberto Falcone, Sal Maroni, Alfred Pennyworth, James Gordon, Barbara Gordon (mom and daughter) and petulant Harvey Dent (Two-Face-to-be) nudge the melancholic progression where required, but this one is first and foremost Batman's tale (and therefore Bruce Wayne's), for our anguished crusader digs deep into the grit and grime to explore (and with ample, determined hope, solve) the maddening mystery carved before him. 

But of course, as an initial installment, the mystery remains open-ended, if only to make one crave more, and that more is right around the bend, with an August release. 

Can't wait for that second half to hit, but for the interim, I'll revisit the first a few more times; no doubt, so will you.  

(BTW: The Losers, time-travel/dinosaur-attacks bonus-short is a cool way to supplement the main feature. Perhaps DC/WB will be wise enough to produce a full-length edition someday.) 

An Alternate Reality: I saw Batman's Death in the Family...

"Batman: A Death in the Family" (a four-part comic series conceived by Jim Starling, Marv Wolfman, George Perez, Jim Aparo and behind-the-scenes guru, Dennis O'Neil in 1988) became both popular and controversial. However, after the passing of so many years and with the story now reinterpreted through a twenty-minute, DC Spotlight, animated short, its sting may have subsided. For the sake of the short, it also bounces off "Under the Red Hood" (the animated feature, that is), which covers pretty much the same turf, though in this instance narrated by Bruce Greenwood's Batman and rigged with alternate, story directions. 

For those unfamiliar with "Death in the Family", I'll try not reveal too much, though how could one have missed its startling turn, since its cover was at one point plastered here, there and everywhere? (I even stationed a couple versions above, just for feisty measure.) It's what leads up to (and wraps around) the story's culmination that counts or crushes it. 

Directed and adapted by Brandon Vietti, the short focuses initially on Jason Todd's fledgling Robin (Vincent Martella) and his obsession to squash the on-the-mirthful-lam Joker, who hit a vengeful chord in Todd by having paralyzed Batgirl. Though a courageous kid, Todd plays with fire by pursuing the Clown Prince of Crime, and his blinding rage seals his fate and carries the consequences well beyond. 

Perhaps I've already given too much away for something so brief, eh? Then again, DC movies (no matter the length) rarely adhere to all aspects of their source material. However, in this case the ingredients are more borrowed than fresh, even with a clever, interactive component that allows one to tickle the plot (shades of O'Neil's tried-and-true, live-or-die, voting gimmick), which then in turn leads one down reintroduced, "Hush" alternatives. Despite this spiffy technological twist, such guest-starring icons as Nightwing, Ra's al Ghul, Black Mask and Clark Kent/Superman feel more forced than organic within the whole, since their footage is cut from prior productions and/or rushed to deja-vu ends. 

In light of its flip-flopping, all-too-familiar installations and tangent streams, much of the concept's conflict will probably please novice viewers, but even then, Todd's spanning impulsiveness may prove hard to swallow. If one does find merit in the overzealous lad, it comes more by default, since one would rather see Robin prevail than some damn super-villain, but it doesn't click as well as it could beaming from Batman's perspective. All (or most) narrative elements should have sprung from Robin. 

At least the original's ingrained, "family" tension stays intact, keeping the set-up connected to its comic-book roots, and when that inevitable, life-or-death culmination comes between Robin and the Joker, the scene hits hard, even if rehashed. 

By the experiment's end, "Death in the Family" is more a multi-layered, patchwork than a streamlined adaptation, but for those willing to give it a nostalgic try, it's interesting enough to pass the time, though not in the least bit grand enough to surpass its printed foundation. 

(Accompanying "Death in the Family" are animated segments on Sgt Rock, Adam Strange, the Phantom Stranger and Death: each impressive and engaging, but like the main feature, prone to leave one desiring more; and more, indeed, do all these gems deserve.)