The best comics blend art and writing so that each enhances the other without being overtaken by the other. When the script is good, the characters become more than just placeholders for dialogue, and when the artwork is good, they begin to take on a life of their own within the story. Everything works together, so that it all becomes something more than its parts. It’s the same with songs and films. The lyrics and the music are supposed to complement one another to create a full picture of what’s being conveyed. Likewise in movies, when the director can elicit the proper performance out of an actor, everything begins to fall in place. For comics, this level of craftsmanship used to be a lot more common than it is now. We used to have teams like Stan and Jack working together for long periods of time on multiple books, creating new worlds, and setting the bar. Today, it’s rare to find a creative team that stays on the same book for over six months, let alone a year.* It’s even harder to find one that takes a story and brings it to another level.** Robert Kirkman’s done this twice, actually, with “Walking Dead” and “Invincible,” and while I’m personally a bigger fan of “Invincible and the beyond excellent Ryan Ottley on art, both books are raised to an impeccable level by the art. “Ultimate Spider-Man” and “Daredevil” both achieved this feat with Brian Bendis, Spider-Man being shepherded by Mark Bagley and Daredevil being brought to life by Alex Maleev. “Fables” has also hit this mark with Bill Willingham and Mark Buckingham creating a fully formed world and completely reimagining the characters we all know. Since a comic is made by many people, though, it takes a lot of people to make this really happen. When it does, though, the results are spectacular and often bring the medium of graphic storytelling to new heights. Sorry to make that kind of dramatic statement, but really, there’s no other way to put it: that completely pulls a story together.
“Red Robin” is one of these books for me. The teamwork of Fabian Nicieza and Marcus To is impeccable. They manage to not only give Tim Drake a personality that is lacking in so many superheroes, but also manage to transform the character from a run of the mill, stereotypical sidekick/hero into something a little different. Under their care, we’ve seen Tim become more of his own man than he ever was before as Batman’s other half. He’s becoming independent, but he’s not fully leaving the nest. Besides that, though, Tim’s become less and less the common crime stopper, and is actually living up to his potential in every facet. Not unlike what his former assistant Dan Slott is doing with Spider-Man, Nicieza is using everything Tim has to make him into a better hero. Where before, dealing with kidnappings and stopping the occasional mugging was enough, and Tim could always find himself at Titans Tower, now he’s more focused than ever on stopping real crime and doing what it takes to make that happen. He has, like Batman himself recently, gone global, but he’s also playing chess in a world of checkers. Tim Drake is the same kid who figured out who Batman when he was about fourteen. He is smart, he is prepared, and most dangerously, he is impassioned. He has his mission, and he will do whatever it takes to accomplish it, but he isn’t as limited as Bruce is. Now, we’re seeing a rogues gallery and love interests develop that haven’t been involved before. Now, Tim’s got his own assistants that are only tied to the Batverse tangentially. Now, he’s taking people like Ra’s Al Ghul on personally, instead of dealing with one of his assassins. More international crime fighter than superhero, Tim Drake has established himself outside of the system and has become his own man. He has no time for the minutia of Gotham: the world is suffering. Let Dick Grayson handle the Joker, he has to stop a network of assassins from killing world financial leaders. And he does this without ever asking Bruce Wayne for help.
Nicieza is the perfect follow up to Chris Yost for this book. Yost got the ball rolling, and Nicieza has given Tim new purpose now that Bruce has returned. Nicieza is in a class of writers like John Ostrander, Geoff Johns, and James Robinson: they understand continuity, and use it to improve a story without becoming bogged down by it. Each story Tim has been involved in up until this point represents a portion of his life, and Nicieza makes sure that the memories remain. Every part of who he is, his training with Shiva, his connections with the Titans, even his relationship with Bruce’s son, Damian, all play a part in who he’s become because that’s the human existence: we’re the sum of our experiences. And that’s the brilliance in what writers like Nicieza can do: they make these characters seem human. They transform them from images on a two dimensional plane into characters that remain with us long after we put down the book, and make us want to stay with them next month. Tim isn’t trying to prove himself any more, he’s already done it. Nicieza lets Tim use his abilities at strategy and his charm together, building relationships with people that he uses to his advantage, all for a noble goal. He has given him his own world to play in that is unencumbered by any bat signals, and given us a look at Tim Drake as he slowly but surely becomes an even better hero.
As smart as Nicieza’s writing on the book has been, Marcus To’s pencil work has been equally impressive. To’s style is sleek but intricate, so that nothing is wasted and everything that appears is noteworthy. To is one of those artists, like Jamal Igle, who truly can tell a story with what they put on a page. Body language, facial expressions, all of it matters. Where other artists focus on double splash page pin ups, (which, for good measure, To can pull off excellently as well,) To focuses on giving the audience the best story possible. When Tim is acting as Tim Drake, he makes sure to stand and move like a normal teenager, but when he’s in costume, first we notice the extra weight on him, and we notice that he never lets his guard down. In a suit and tie, he insists on pushing his arms out wide, of making points to the media and others to get his point across. In armor, though, he’s guarded, prepared, but extremely mobile. Tim, for whatever reason, seems much more comfortable in costume than in his street clothes, like he’s acting to be Drake, and hiding himself in public, not unlike Bruce. To captures this feeling perfectly, using the eye slits in the Red Robin mask as the entrance to his soul. Other characters benefit from this attention to detail as well. When he draws Red Star, we see the Russian superhero not as a walking six pack of muscles, but as a normal man who happened to get powers. Red Star has always been an uneasy hero who does his work because his people need him, not out of any sense of glory, and To gives him a gravitas in his eyes and stance that fits the people’s defender. He has never been one to flash his abilities unnecessarily, but he will do what is necessary. Red Star wears pants and a shirt rather than armor or a mask, and To shows us what this says about him as a man: he is not comfortable in a position of authority, but he does his job, and does it well. We gain insight into who he is immediately, and know as much as we need to without any extra information. Coupled with Nicieza’s writing, we’re given a collection of unique and defined characters that, like To’s design aren’t too complicated, but aren’t shallow, either.
This is why I love comics: we get to see two creators at the top of their games come together and give us something really special. The story is less about a superhero, and more about a young man trying to find his way in the world, showing, in an unexpected way, a window into ourselves. Tim reacts as we do to the world around him, and sees fit to change it by using all his abilities, making himself better, but still standing on shaky ground sometimes, asking himself how far he’s willing to go to do the right thing. He has to find out what he will and won’t do in the name of justice. And that’s really the question that’s raised for all of us: is it the right thing to do if we have to sacrifice our morals to do it?
*This isn’t to say that this has to be done to make a comic good. In the case of books like “Jonah Hex” and others, the switch in art contributes a lot to the story, emphasizing a shift to help reset the different light the main character is seen. In the case of “Jonah” in particular, since the Hex character’s mythology is so important to the story, the changes become almost necessary because of the different viewpoints explored and wind up making the book that much better. The same could be said of Madame Xanadu's artistic shifts.
**Now, obviously, I’m not counting brilliant books and runs like anything Eisner did, Walt Simonson’s “Thor,” Jeff Smith’s “Bone,” Stan Sakai’s “Usagi Yojimbo,” or anything written and penciled by one person, because it is a little easier for the art and the story to match up in that case (although, not always. See Frank Miller’s “Dark Knight Strikes Again.”)
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