Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Batman (Vol. 1), Issue #404 – “Who I Am – How I Come to Be”! Ohhh man, what excitement awaits??

So what’s this now?! Not only am I taking a brief break from the New 52 action, but also, going completely against my strong obsessive compulsive tendencies, this is the first time I’m not jumping into a series with the first issue. Why? Because the original Batman series has been around since 1940 and it sucked complete shit for the first 30 years, that’s why!

More importantly, after poking around comic book Wikis and Reddits, it has come to my attention that there are iconic storylines in the history of the comicverse that demand a New 52 detour once in a while. Ergo, thus, hitherto, I’m taking my first quick detour and hitting what appears to be one of the MOST iconic Batman storylines of all time: Batman: Year One. Oooooh, chills. It runs the range of Batman (Vol. 1) Issues #404 – #407, just four installments.

I haven’t read too much about it since I don’t want to spoil the experience, but, from what I gather, this arc contains the best version of the Batman origin story? It had FUCKING better! Nah, I’m cool.

Let’s get to it.

Batman (Vol. 1), Issue #404 [February, 1987]
Written by: Frank Miller
“Who I Am – How I Come to Be”

The cover says it all, doesn’t it? A young Bruce Wayne kneeling near his deceased parents. We’re going to see how it all started! I’m positively aroused!

January 4. We begin with Commissioner Gordon, but oho, he’s no police commissioner yet. He’s Lieutenant Gordon, and he’s arriving in Gotham for the first time. A detective named Flass, who looks like the kind of linebacker who beats his wife, welcomes the twitchy (yet familiarly mustachioed) Gordon at the airport. “Welcome to Gotham, Jimmy. It’s not as bad as it looks. Especially if you’re a cop. Cops got it made in Gotham.” Flass tells a rather unassured Gordon.

On the same day, it seems, Bruce Wayne is flying back to his home city after twelve years abroad (and since I just finished that first New 52 Batman & Robin storyline, I already know that Bruce spent much, much time bouncing around the world training with masters in martial arts and shit like that). See! I’m fucking learning, here! News reporters flood the airport terminal trying to get a statement from “Gotham’s richest and best-looking native son” and his future plans in the city now that he’s back for good. The news informs me that Bruce is fucking 25 years old, making me feel ancient. Training since he was 13 years old huh? Hmm, I wonder what prompted that decision? MAYBE WE’LL FIND OUT? A news anchor moves on to a story about Assistant District Attorney Harvey Dent withdrawing conspiracy charges against Commissioner Loeb after a key witness disappears…

Red hair? Mustache? YOU’RE PERFECT! Welcome aboard, Opie.

Lieutenant James “Jimmy” “Jim-Jam” Gordon is chatting it up with Commissioner Gillian B. Loeb in his office, which is full of chintzy trinkets such as one of those drinking bird toys, a big portrait of a clown on the wall, a dart board, and a Peanuts lampshade. Loeb is gushing over Gordon’s police record, and Gordon sheepishly admits that he’s made mistakes in the past and he’s grateful for another chance to prove himself. “What mistakes have you made, Lieutenant? You kept the media away from it. That’s the bottom line, isn’t it? Yes it is.” It sounds like this Loeb guy is a real straight-shooter!

Bruce arrives at his manor, as positively fancy and schmancy as the day he left it. Alfred’s been there this whole time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a little bit irked that his free bachelor pad for the last 13 years is now suddenly no more. No more orgies for you, Alfie.

Jim Gordon is sullen. “It’s either this or pumping gas,” he thinks as his partner drinks and drives, “…then I tell myself I’m doing it for Barbara…”. Aha! That’s his daughter, one of the Batgirls! I know things! Anyway, Gordon and Flass are out on patrol and Flass suddenly screeches the car to a halt near some loitering teenagers. “Mother know you’re here, Stevie?” he asks one of the kids and then sucker punches him right in his mug! Take that, unsuspecting teenager doing no real illegal activities whatsoever! Flass also hoists him by the neck and crotch and slams him against the edge of a dumpster, which…it SEEMS rude, I think? But hey, I’m not a cop! Gordon keeps his beady eyes and frowny mustache on Flass. Methinks Flass ain’t gonna be coppin’ much longer when Gordon’s in town. Coppin’ a feel, that is. Coppin’ a feel on some teenager dicks.

Wear a cup next time you come out to play, kid!

Flass confiscated a retractable comb from the kid, thinking that it was a knife. “I’m only human, Jimmy.” Flass says smugly, knowing full well that ol’ Stevie probably has a trillion of those pocket combs. Classic Stevie. I forgot to mention that Gordon keeps hoping that “Barbara’s tests are negative”, and I’m not sure what that means yet! Keep it in mind! Don’t worry, I won’t forget it at- oh my god, I just saw a blimp! There’s like 17 of those left in the world!

Where was I?

February 12. Over a month later. I learn that Barbara’s not even born yet, I guess that makes sense. Gordon and Flass are chasing down a homicide, Flass tells him that he and the boys are all worried about Gordon. The dude needs to chill. Gordon tells him to call him “Lieutenant”. Gordon’s getting some balls!

February 21. Bruce is judo choppin’ some bricks for fun at his estate. He’s also trying to kick trees down, which doesn’t sound like any training I’M familiar with. He’s struggling internally, thinking he’s not ready yet, but he can’t put his finger on it.

Grab an axe, you dingus.

February 26. Flass is chatting it up in Commissioner Loeb’s office, complaining about ol’ Wet Blanket Gordon being too honest, being too much of a good cop, trying not to rise above the law. “He’s just not fitting in, Gill.” Makes me sick too, Flass! Grrr! He asks Loeb if he and the boys can rough ol’ Wet Blanket Gordon up. Loeb tells him to wait until he’s out of town. Two weeks.

March 11. *looks at a calendar* Hey, that’s two weeks! All right, we don’t waste any time here in Issue #404! Bruce Wayne idles in a parking garage, going over an alibi that he had put in place that evening. He’s supposed to be at a hotel fuckin’! Seriously. His alibi is that he’s fuckin’ at a hotel. What the unsuspecting public doesn’t know is that Bruce Wayne, by all accounts that I’ve personally witnessed so far, is completely asexual. Bruce gets ready in the car putting on makeup. Uh.

Meanwhile, Gordon is in the police parking garage and talks about Barbara again and I guess it’s his wife that’s named Barbara? Christ, so many characters. He says he’s trying to get himself off the night shift but no one answers his phone calls. He is suddenly ambushed by four thugs in ski masks with baseball bats. Gordon perks up and defends, but he’s no match! He gets whacked in the noggin! As they’re beating the shit out of him, Gordon recognizes Flass’ laugh…

Right in the dome! If that bat was corked, oh man… I don’t even want to know.

Bruce, incognito, is ambling through the worst parts of town (and for a city like Gotham, that’s saying quite a bit). He weaves his way through seedy adult theaters and prostitutes aplenty, one approaches him that looks 13 years old. “Cheer you up?” she says. “I doubt it. How old are you?” he asks. “Young as you want me to be.” she responds, and then her pimp hurries over to chastise her for doing it all wrong.

And lo and behold, the origin story of Stabby Whore.

The pimp thinks Bruce is a cop. As I make my way through the most surprising suggestive scene that I’ve seen in a comic book yet, and that even counts the MAX imprint Alias comics, the pimp gets skittish and brandishes a knife at Bruce. Bruce can’t help himself and kicks the pimp’s ass six ways to Sunday! All the while he’s kicking himself for getting involved in the first place, drawing all sorts of unwanted attention. “Idiot — never should have done this.” he thinks to himself. Then Holly, the little whore girl, stabs him in the leg.

As a veritable horde of prostitutes swarm Bruce, he meets his match with a particularly feisty, leather-clad, short-haired dominatrix (it’s brought up that she hisses like a cat, so could this be Catwoman?)! Bruce punches her in the face right in front of the police! They shoot him right at a major artery! He’s losing blood! He blacks out as he gets booked! Now that’s comedy!

What a shitty day for everyone’s favorite future Bat-like Man and future Commissioner-like Gordon.

En route, Bruce breaks out of his handcuffs like he wasn’t shot four minutes ago. He incapacitates the cops and sends the police car into a fiery crash. Good going, dipshit! The news report indicates that the cops were found unconscious far away from the car. Bruce apparently dragged his bloody body on his hands and knees to his own car in the parking garage, not aware of how he got there or if he did anything else stupid on the way. While he’s hoping he didn’t do anything stupid, he stupidly attempts to start his car and drive away in his condition.

Gordon is also trying to drive home in his condition. He and Bruce cross paths. “Maniac almost hit me–” Gordon grumbles.

Ahhh, the good ol’ ’80s…

Gordon makes it over to one of the other detective’s houses and stakes it out from afar. A poker party, and Flass is in attendance. Several other cops leave one at a time, and Gordon let’s them go. When Flass drunkenly staggers out and drives away, Gordon follows him. Eventually, he runs Flass off the road, who hits a tree. Gordon points a gun at him. Flass recognizes him and drops his own gun. Gordon tosses him a baseball bat, but Flass just kind of stands there and takes it as Gordon kicks his ass. Afterwards, Gordon throws Flass’ gun into the woods, strips him nude, handcuffs him, and leaves him there. How’s that for hazing! ANIMAL HOOOUUUUSE!

Cut to Wayne Manor, where Bruce barely made it home. He crashed his Porsche into Alfred’s shitty British car, totalling both vehicles. He’s in his father’s old study creepily talking to a bust of his father on a pedestal. “I have wealth. The family manor rests above a huge cave that will be the perfect headquarters…even a butler with training in combat medicine…yes, father, I have everything but patience.” Bruce gibbers, bleeding out as we speak. He’s tired of waiting. He’s been waiting 18 years. 18 years since that fateful day when his parents were needlessly murdered right in front of his eyes. As he wonders what to do next, a goddamned bat crashes through the window of his manor.

And the rest is history! *trumpet fanfare* *clown horn*

Final Thoughts

HELL yeah! This IS good. I don’t know what I expected, but this is just the kind of grittiness that I feel like I haven’t really encountered yet. I heard that DC was pretty excellent in the ‘80s, maybe I should dip into some of these early modern-era stories more often.

But then again, it is way more fun to write about the bad comics. A dilemma…