So man, I have been waiting for this collection to exist for over 20 years. Batman #455 (which isn't collected here, but should be in subsequent volumes) was my first-ever Batman comic, and I reread it so many times in the intervening years I'm pretty sure I have it memorized. From that book forward, I was absolutely addicted to Norm Breyfogle's Batman -- the harsh angles, the incredible page layouts, the mix of narrative storytelling ability and an aggressive dynamism that I just don't even know how to describe. Breyfogle didn't just draw characters and settings -- he drew the idea of movement, a meshing of style and tone that ensured every single penstroke was building toward an aesthetic ideal that was more than just a rendering of objects in space.
There's nothing like a Breyfogle Batman page. You see one and you realize just how many artists out there are missing an entire half of their illustration toolbox, in which layout and content are brought together so completely and irrevocably that the page, the line, and the panel become a single unit. It's impossible, obviously, for me to talk about Norm Breyfogle without waxing poetic. But I'm telling you, man -- the dude understood how to find a page's sheer oneness in ways I've really never seen anywhere else.
Aside from a handful of issues, Breyfogle's daunting, nearly-unbroken 5-year run on DETECTIVE, BATMAN, and SHADOW OF THE BAT had never been collected before this year. I tracked down the single issues in my 20s, but this is the first time I'd seen his work on high-grade paper, without ads and lettercolumns. And I'll admit, my four-star review on this volume is wholly due to the intensity of my nostalgia. There was a pulpiness, a serial-of-the-week feel to Breyfogle's work with Alan Grant on these stories -- they understood how to make the monthly medium work, with single-issue tales that zinged and two or three-parters so dense with plot and character that just reading a few issues felt like a full meal. The stark simplicity of Breyfogle's inks were also uniquely suited to the terrible newsprint on which they were printed -- the striking blacks and bold shapes jumped off those yellowed pages.
There's something mildly less electric about seeing these incredible stories put together in a clean and perfect package. It doesn't help that Todd Klein's impeccable lettering clearly had to be re-traced for much of this volume, nor that some of Breyfogle's inks haven't reproduced as sharply and precisely as the originals. The book also suffers from a lack of any kind of introduction or backmatter, which should be standard for a retrospective like this.
But these are quibbles that other people who are not psycho for Breyfogle won't even pick up on. What you will find, instead, is the beginning of a seminal period of Batman comics. These aren't continuity-heavy stories in the larger sense, but within their own sandbox they lay the groundwork for an intricate cast of characters and criminals in a fully-realized Gotham that Breyfogle and Grant were able to explore to their heart's content during the late 80's and early 90's.
The volume begins with a collection of early Batman backup stories with a range of writers, several of which I've never even heard of before. Past these, the Grant/Breyfogle era hits the ground running, introducing villains, cops, informants, bums, addicts, grifters, and socialites that would resurface again and again in varying capacities throughout their run. Some characters, like Scarface and Ultimate Clayface, became major players throughout the Batman mythos. Other baddies, like the Ratcatcher, Kadaver, and the Corrosive Man, were minor nogoodniks that played to the angularity and supernatural-tinged drama of Breyfogle's art. These stories also have an overly-nuanced political stance that is unheard of in modern superhero comics -- from Batman learning about Western bigotry through fighting against Middle Eastern "terrorists," to lessons in colonialism through the characterization of an Aboriginal warrior bent on revenge.
But there is still a small-time, low-stakes feel here -- a naturalness and groundedness to Batman's day-to-day crimesolving that has little to do with epic storytelling, and more to do with satisfying storytelling. This sort of day-to-day adventuring humanizes Batman like nothing I've ever read. And while there's a somewhat preachy diatribe against drug use that hangs over these stories in an outdated way, this thread never gets in the way of the story.
Norm suffered a debilitating stroke this past year that left him unable to draw -- in fact, the stroke is the reason that DC saw fit to fast-track this retrospective (perhaps at the expense of some of the book's aesthetic details). Aside from buying this book because it's the right thing to do for your comic-lovin' heart, proceeds are going to Breyfogle's medical bills, which are sizeable.
So look -- do yourself a favor, and Norm a favor, by buying the crap out of this gorgeous thing.