We both know, the history of violence that surrounds you / But I'm not scared, there's nothing to lose now that I've found you (Honeymoon – Lana Del Rey).
I hope it's not a big upset when I tell you that I’ve never really liked The Killing Joke. I mean, this is the first time I’ve actually sat down and read it, but as someone who was already familiar with the story, I can't say I've ever been a fan. Call me soft, but I think it boils down to the fact that the subject matter was just too mean and ugly for me to ever give the material more than a passing glance. For those who don’t know, The Killing Joke's story gives us an in-depth look at the relationship between Batman and The Joker by getting all lofty and metaphorical with their dynamic in order to make a statement about… I don’t know… the nature of humanity or something. The basic premise centers around The Joker doing something so terrible and unforgivable in order to prove to Batman and Commissioner Gordon that anybody can become just like him if they have one bad day. It’s a sound foundation, and I liked the clean paneling, the dynamic coloring, and the emphasis on literary-esque dialogue, but I've always felt like this story focuses on the wrong people. The material likes to wax poetic about the pointlessness of life and then argue right back against said pointlessness by talking about hope and doing things “the right way,” but there's an underlying cynicism in the way it has endless consideration for the torturer while forgetting all about the tortured. In other words, this comic should be a Barbara Gordon story, and yet it instead throws her to the wayside to make the men in her life the focal point. The idea of “fridging” in regards to comic books is a popular term that examines sexism and the way comic writers often gruesomely kill off a superhero’s love-interest in order to further and even compliment the “brooding male” archetype. Apparently it comes from a Green Lantern comic where he finds his dead girlfriend stuffed in a fridge, though I personally wouldn’t know anything about that because the only Green Lantern that means anything to me is John Stewart from the Justice League animated show. Look, I know side characters in fiction literally only exist in addition to the protagonist, but a good writer knows how to mask that fact by giving everybody their own sense of identity without them coming across like they're an NPC who has run out of dialogue. This is especially important in relation to female characters, because it sends an uncomfortable message when they're only ever delegated to side character status, with the implication being that they only exist to orbit around a man. Take the death of Gwen Stacy for example! Comic historians are always going on about how important it was for the medium, and while I don't dispute that, I'm of the mind that she's a much more interesting character now that she's been given agency with her Spider-Gwen incarnation. Anyway, this blatant disregard and reliance on shock value surrounding the torture of female characters has always been why The Killing Joke’s near universal acclaim has always confused me, because isn't this comic just as distasteful as all the others? But I guess we should clap this time around because it was written by a prestige author. Woah, it's so deep how The Joker and Batman share a moment of lucidity against the backdrop of their batshit insane relationship! Ignore all that other stuff though.
I mean, I know a lot of people adore The Joker and think he’s some kind of deep thinker, but I believe that the character has never been as interesting as the writers clearly think he is, and it's all a smokescreen so he can be used as a cheap and lazy plot device to get around writing consistent characterization. Has anybody else seen that “As a kid you idolize Batman, but as you mature you realize The Joker was always right” post that makes the rounds on Facebook every couple of months? Or at least it did when I still had a Facebook (before it was a A.I. infested cesspool), but yeah, it’s funny how every popular media featuring the character, including this comic, goes to great lengths to explain how wrong and alone The Joker is in his nihilistic belief system, and yet he’s still used as a poster child for shitty meme templates where divorced dads can put whatever text they want complaining about their ex-wives over the face of Heath Ledger’s Joker. Pretty counter-culture, huh? I guess my point here is that this character has since evolved into some kind of champion for the bitter and angry man, and in doing so it's ironically made the character the worst thing he could possibly become... boring. Look, The Killing Joke is very popular and highly celebrated, and I know that comic book fans are very sensitive about their favorite hobby, second only gamers, I reckon, so I’m really not trying to ruffle any feathers here. I don't even think this comic is bad, it's just that I didn't like it! I can’t shake my opinion that this comic definitely has the appearance of something that’s saying something, but now that it's been sitting with me for a while, I found the themes so disparate and loosely connected, with the undercurrent of misogyny so rampant, that it stopped the material from resonating with me in any real way. Otherwise, I’m of the opinion that The Joker is always at his least interesting when he’s carrying out his most vile acts. Like how he somehow managed to blow up an entire city just to provoke Superman in Injustice, him getting the upper hand and killing a room full of guards with a shard of glass in Batman: Under the Red Hood, or him paralyzing Barbara Gordon right here in this comic book, I just think that the more untouchable the narrative makes this character, the less you can say or do with him. That’s why my favorite incarnation is the Mark Hamill one in the animated series; because the writers were constricted by the fact that they were writing for a children’s show, so they had to actually get creative with his plans without falling back on the crux of “oh, and here’s where The Joker does the most horrible thing imaginable” over and over again. I don't even hate the premise of this comic! There was a sequence of events similar to The Killing Joke in Batman Beyond: Return of The Joker and even though it was toned down quite a bit, I still found it much more horrifying than anything found here. It's about finding that balance, and it's ironic how the more erratic this character is written, the more predictable he becomes.
Besides, the harder the writers go on how terrible The Joker is, the worse Batman looks in comparison. He has his little “no kill” rule and that’s great, but if this guy is going around doing the most at every opportunity, I’m sorry, but you’ve just got to bite the bullet and take care of him. That's why trying to apply real life morality to these larger than life comic book characters always falls flat for me, because it's like... obviously someone like The Joker should be given some kind of treatment or whatever, but we're in comic book land where the writers will do whatever they can to keep to the status quo. The Joker will always be hectic and evil, and Batman will always be steadfast and immovable. And if I’m honest? In general I find high concept ideals and themes attributed to outrageous comic book characters pretty silly, because at least something like the 1960’s Batman show knew what it was and decided to have fun with it. “Oh, I want a Batman story that's darker!” Do you? Or is this just another way of applying Philosophy 101 rhetoric to iconic caped heroes in order to make these concepts more easy to digest without the need to pick up a book. I love comics, but every time I read an elevated comic, I always think back to that one embarrassing video of Kevin Smith (director of the acclaimed movie, Cop Out) where he’s recounting the entire plot of Avengers: Endgame and just bawling his eyes out the whole time. Sorry, but… get it together dude. Anyway, and this is a spoiler, but it turns out that even the fact that this comic literally spells out its theme was too much for some, because there was a popular theory going around about this comic claiming that Batman just straight up kills The Joker. There’s a panel where if you squint hard enough, it almost looks like Batman puts his fist through the other guy’s heart, and like, does that not go against the entire point of the story? You know, the theme that people can't stop gassing up. It’s funny how so many people defend this story for its deep and dark themes and somehow still manage to headcanon any and all of the nuance away. Don't get me wrong, I don't fault this comic for trying to mean something, but I am a little bitter that it set a precedent for the clown where it feels like every edge-lord writer thereafter has tried to outdo the previous on how evil and crazy The Joker can be. I guess in that regard it shouldn't have been too much of a surprise to me when they made The Joker into a stand-in for all the incels out there in the 2019 movie Joker, where the film somehow misses the very easy to hit mark by saying very loudly and clearly that it was society's fault for making him the way he is. Sure whatever, write what you want, but it's important to remember that first and foremost... The Joker should be entertaining, the whole "enlightened philosopher spouting nonsense" part should come second! So yeah, I didn’t really like this, but I still understand why people found The Killing Joke groundbreaking. It’s a story that grew up with its readers featuring two iconic characters in an edgier space discussing “adult” themes, and it ends on a low-key climax full of dialogue hinting at emotional poignancy. But I will say that it’s a little sad because even though the intended messaging is to highlight the banality and hopelessness to Batman and The Joker’s eternal conflict, a lot of fans will instead take comfort in their forever. Don't worry, our favorite characters will always be like this, never changing and their story never ending.
“Why aren’t you laughing?”
“Because I’ve heard it all before. And it wasn’t funny the first time.”