Help me out: What happened to Heath Ledger's Joker in the film? I only saw it once.
BGOL ETHICS: Is Batman just as GUILTY for letting Joker live?
- Thread starter playahaitian
- Start date
This.
why not just paralyze him from the neck down? he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone, but he'll still be alive. batman doesn't have to kill him...plus the joker will be so demoralized from not being able to cause a difference, he might kill himself. two birds with one stone.
Batman vs the imperfections in the justice system. DC used to write stories with social commentary all the time in the 70s. Red arrow was a junkie at one point, black folks went in on green lantern for not looking out for them...etc.
I'm saying DC wouldn't/doesn't have enough balls to write a story about Batman's stance on the death penalty. (Though oddly they have no issue having a superhero wife being raped (sue dibney)
Batman reinforces complete faith in the justice system to kids and that criminality should be dealt with brutally and without forgiveness. Batman may not kill, but he supports a system that does faithfully, so he is complicit.
I thought something like this did happened.
this whole issue 
I've always been curious, and wanted DC to explore an a non-Canon story; WHAT IF some of DC's greates villains, mass murders like the Joker and manipulative masterminds like Lex Luthor, who kills anyone just to get at Superman - got taken out by ordinary, non-superhero, everyday person...
Batman is a psychotic controlling freak, if he starts killing and get's used to it, it's over.
Plus with all the intel he has on villains and heroes, what would stop him to do prevention killing?!
This is a crazy line!
Plus with all the intel he has on villains and heroes, what would stop him to do prevention killing?!
This is a crazy line!
You need to write that.
Seriously...
because to see batman or superman talking to an average person in a cell or interrogation room who was effected by the Joker insanity who actually went out and killed him...
And that person debating a so called hero who because of some kind of moral code let a psychopath continue to terrorize an entire city.
You need to write that.
Why Superman Killed General Zod in Man of Steel
http://www.bgol.us/board/showthread.php?p=15892681&posted=1#post15892681
http://www.bgol.us/board/showthread.php?p=15892681&posted=1#post15892681
.....
Like others have already said Bats is borderline psycho already and once he crosses that line it is a wrap.
Because Batman loves the game too!
Like any corporation Wayne Enterprises is responsible for killing more people than Batman ever could
Batman and his moral code are a half measure he should've handled the joker a long time ago
Batman and his moral code are a half measure he should've handled the joker a long time ago
http://13thdimension.com/the-sad-ugly-end-to-batman-66-meets-wonder-woman-77-spoilers/#respond
REVIEW: I don’t relish writing this.
I don’t often write negative reviews because I generally like to keep the 13th Dimension vibe lively and upbeat. Life’s too short to run down everything you may dislike.
But as a devoted fan of the Batman ’66 TV show — who’s also been an ardent cheerleader of DC’s usually ebullient comics series — I can’t let this one go.
That’s because the final two issues of Batman ’66 Meets Wonder Woman ’77 — the last of which came out this week — were a depressing misfire that featured the most discordant note in the 51-year history of the franchise.
It has nothing to do with the pacing, or the art or — most certainly — Mike Allred’s always wonderful, joyful covers.
It has everything to do with this page from Issue #5, which came out last month:
That’s right, Batman — Adam West’s Batman — tells Wonder Woman that he’s a murderer.
Not a hoax. Not an imaginary story. (Though, these comics aren’t considered canon, such as that is.)
I’ll back up: The 6-issue miniseries is broken up into three parts, with each mirroring the settings of the two shows: The first two issues take place during World War II, which imagines young Bruce Wayne meeting everyone’s favorite Amazon. The second two take place in the mid-’60s and the final two in 1977 — nearly a decade after the end of the Batman show. The villain? The close-to-immortal Ra’s al Ghul. (The full series ran digital-first with different numbering, but I read these on paper.)
Now, going into Issue #5, we knew that when the story picked up Bruce Wayne would be retired. I wondered myself what would make this particular Batman — the eternal optimist — hang up his cape at this stage in his life. Even with gray at his temples, I couldn’t see him giving up the good fight.
Earlier in the issue.
Then we found out why: He murdered the Joker.*
And that’s just wrong.
On no level, in any way, would this version of Batman, this duly deputized agent of the law, ever commit such an extreme act. This is a Caped Crusader who believed in justice, not vengeance. Who was the ultimate, incorruptible, paragon of virtue.
Seems to me the writers, whose bodies of work I respect a great deal, were going meta: The groovy ’60s were over and the darker, disillusioned ’70s had taken hold. As we know, the Joker in the comics became a killer once again and Robin gave up the short pants to become Nightwing (though in real years it took until 1984 for that to happen).
But in taking the idea to its illogical extreme, they pulled the whole narrative off the rails: Nothing, and I mean nothing, would have gotten this version of Batman to take a life, not in the world first concocted by Messrs. Dozier, Semple, et al.
Hell, even Frank Miller’s Batman — the alpha and omega of grim-and-gritty Dark Knights — refused to kill the Joker when given the chance. It’s what gave the climactic scene of the best chapter of one of the greatest Batman stories ever — 1986’s The Dark Knight Returns #3 — its raw power: The most hardened Batman, despite everything, will torture, maim and threaten but he will not kill.
So if the writers thought they were making some commentary about the end of innocence, they missed the mark.
And to add insult to injury, Wonder Woman lets him off the hook, chalking up the Joker’s demise as a casualty of Batman’s war on crime. (Note to Princess Diana: Batman’s war on crime is a metaphor. It’s not a real war. He has no license to kill.)
I didn’t write this when I first read Issue #5 because I held out hope that there would be some further explanation in Issue #6, which came out this week. Maybe, I wondered, Batman was under some kind of delusion perhaps fomented by the Scarecrow. Or something.
But no, there was no reference to the murder, no recriminations, no guilt. Just the heroes happy that Batman was out of retirement and back in action.
What makes this an especially bitter pill is that this may be the last Batman ’66miniseries we’re going to see in some time — if at all — though there have been persistent rumors that DC is monkeying around with an idea for another. At least we have the Allred family’s Batman ’66 Meets the Legion of Super-Heroes one-shot in July, and I can’t wait to read it. I’m certain that the taint of this story won’t be a part of that.
But as far as longer form stories, this is a downbeat way to go out.
Last year’s animated movie Return of the Caped Crusaders made great sport of just how absurd the notion of a Dark Knight Adam West is. And of course West, who died just this month, himself took great pride in calling himself the Bright Knight.
It’s too bad that the writers of this story took note of neither.
—
(* UPDATED: I want to add that I had to re-read the page a couple times to make sure I had the right takeaway. Bruce never says “I killed him.” You could argue that the Joker’s death may have been accidental and he’s just being hard on himself. But, in the end, given the stark comparison to his parents’ deaths, which in most versions of the story was intentional homicide, this was the conclusion I kept drawing. Either way, I think this is a line that’s too dark for this particular version of Batman. It might have been better if Batman retired because of age or injury.)
REVIEW: I don’t relish writing this.
I don’t often write negative reviews because I generally like to keep the 13th Dimension vibe lively and upbeat. Life’s too short to run down everything you may dislike.
But as a devoted fan of the Batman ’66 TV show — who’s also been an ardent cheerleader of DC’s usually ebullient comics series — I can’t let this one go.
That’s because the final two issues of Batman ’66 Meets Wonder Woman ’77 — the last of which came out this week — were a depressing misfire that featured the most discordant note in the 51-year history of the franchise.
It has nothing to do with the pacing, or the art or — most certainly — Mike Allred’s always wonderful, joyful covers.
It has everything to do with this page from Issue #5, which came out last month:
That’s right, Batman — Adam West’s Batman — tells Wonder Woman that he’s a murderer.
Not a hoax. Not an imaginary story. (Though, these comics aren’t considered canon, such as that is.)
I’ll back up: The 6-issue miniseries is broken up into three parts, with each mirroring the settings of the two shows: The first two issues take place during World War II, which imagines young Bruce Wayne meeting everyone’s favorite Amazon. The second two take place in the mid-’60s and the final two in 1977 — nearly a decade after the end of the Batman show. The villain? The close-to-immortal Ra’s al Ghul. (The full series ran digital-first with different numbering, but I read these on paper.)
Now, going into Issue #5, we knew that when the story picked up Bruce Wayne would be retired. I wondered myself what would make this particular Batman — the eternal optimist — hang up his cape at this stage in his life. Even with gray at his temples, I couldn’t see him giving up the good fight.
Earlier in the issue.
Then we found out why: He murdered the Joker.*
And that’s just wrong.
On no level, in any way, would this version of Batman, this duly deputized agent of the law, ever commit such an extreme act. This is a Caped Crusader who believed in justice, not vengeance. Who was the ultimate, incorruptible, paragon of virtue.
Seems to me the writers, whose bodies of work I respect a great deal, were going meta: The groovy ’60s were over and the darker, disillusioned ’70s had taken hold. As we know, the Joker in the comics became a killer once again and Robin gave up the short pants to become Nightwing (though in real years it took until 1984 for that to happen).
But in taking the idea to its illogical extreme, they pulled the whole narrative off the rails: Nothing, and I mean nothing, would have gotten this version of Batman to take a life, not in the world first concocted by Messrs. Dozier, Semple, et al.
Hell, even Frank Miller’s Batman — the alpha and omega of grim-and-gritty Dark Knights — refused to kill the Joker when given the chance. It’s what gave the climactic scene of the best chapter of one of the greatest Batman stories ever — 1986’s The Dark Knight Returns #3 — its raw power: The most hardened Batman, despite everything, will torture, maim and threaten but he will not kill.
So if the writers thought they were making some commentary about the end of innocence, they missed the mark.
And to add insult to injury, Wonder Woman lets him off the hook, chalking up the Joker’s demise as a casualty of Batman’s war on crime. (Note to Princess Diana: Batman’s war on crime is a metaphor. It’s not a real war. He has no license to kill.)
I didn’t write this when I first read Issue #5 because I held out hope that there would be some further explanation in Issue #6, which came out this week. Maybe, I wondered, Batman was under some kind of delusion perhaps fomented by the Scarecrow. Or something.
But no, there was no reference to the murder, no recriminations, no guilt. Just the heroes happy that Batman was out of retirement and back in action.
What makes this an especially bitter pill is that this may be the last Batman ’66miniseries we’re going to see in some time — if at all — though there have been persistent rumors that DC is monkeying around with an idea for another. At least we have the Allred family’s Batman ’66 Meets the Legion of Super-Heroes one-shot in July, and I can’t wait to read it. I’m certain that the taint of this story won’t be a part of that.
But as far as longer form stories, this is a downbeat way to go out.
Last year’s animated movie Return of the Caped Crusaders made great sport of just how absurd the notion of a Dark Knight Adam West is. And of course West, who died just this month, himself took great pride in calling himself the Bright Knight.
It’s too bad that the writers of this story took note of neither.
—
(* UPDATED: I want to add that I had to re-read the page a couple times to make sure I had the right takeaway. Bruce never says “I killed him.” You could argue that the Joker’s death may have been accidental and he’s just being hard on himself. But, in the end, given the stark comparison to his parents’ deaths, which in most versions of the story was intentional homicide, this was the conclusion I kept drawing. Either way, I think this is a line that’s too dark for this particular version of Batman. It might have been better if Batman retired because of age or injury.)
Don’t Get It Twisted: The Ultimate Guide to the Joker’s Origin Stories
By Rebecca Alter
“If I’m going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!” Photo: Niko Tavernise/Warner Bros.
“Fool you once, shame on you, fool you twice, joker’s trick … ” Such are the immortal words of the parody account @jokers_trick, which tweets utterly fake, chaotic evil Joker-isms with the unhinged zeal of a freshman Dark Knight fan. The account, with its quotes from scenes that never really existed in any film or TV show, is as good an introduction as any into the self-consciously *~*twisted*~* world of the Joker — or, ahem, Joker. As with any enduring comic-book character, Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime has gone through so many rebirths and reiterations over the decades (between his original DC run, the iconic Adam West TV series, the animated shows, the video games, and the live-action films), that’s it’s hard to believe a line like the above hasn’t already been written. Has it?
Joker’s whole shtick — no matter the medium — is that the character is a loopy, confused liar with an ever-shifting backstory. As he quips in the 1988 Alan Moore comic Batman: The Killing Joke, “I mean, what is it with you? What made you what you are? Girlfriend killed by the mob, maybe? Brother carved up by some mugger? Something like that, I bet. Something like that … Something like that happened to me, you know. I … I’m not exactly sure what it was. Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another … If I’m going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!” Indeed, keeping all of the character’s origin stories straight can be enough to drive even the most ardent Batstan into Arkham Asylum or the depths of @jokers_trick. So allow us to lay out the deck for you. Turn up the Steve Miller Band, put on your Boo Boo the Fool nose, and dive in to the chemical waste below, because we took this job extremely why-so-seriously.
Batman #1 (1940)
Like yin and yang, or clowns and flying rodents, the Joker has been around for nearly as long as his archrival, having been introduced in the very first issue of Batman #1. He arrived without an origin story, already a psychopath and killing for fun with his special toxin dubbed “Joker’s venom,” which somehow left his victims with a permanent grin on their faces. The DC artists (Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson are credited with creating the character) initially intended to kill off Joker in order to make Batman appear more competent, but an editor allegedly reneged at the last minute, prompting the artists to hastily add a frame showing that the Joker had survived the issue, living to trick another day. By 1942, the writers had transformed him from a psychotic mass murderer into more of a goofy prankster, to better market the comics to kiddos. Because yeah, stuff like this isn’t disturbing at all.
Detective Comics #168, “The Man Behind the Red Hood!” (1951)
This issue, penned by the character’s co-creator Bill Finger, was the first to demystify the Joker’s origins. According to Finger, the Joker was already committing crimes under a different alias — the Red Hood — when, one night as he was trying to rob a factory and evade Batman, he dove into a pool of chemical water. When he emerged, he was sporting the white skin, green hair, and general Billie Eilish look we’ve come to associate with the Joker.
Batman TV Series(1966)
personally subscribed to the “chemicals turned Joker’s hair green” backstory.
What Adam West’s live-action Batman series lacked in things like three-dimensional characterization and story complexity, it more than made up for in panache. Among the series’ many cultural contributions is Cesar Romero’s performance as a fun, over-the-top Joker. He only appeared in a handful of episodes per season, and, seemingly preoccupied with his metal hand buzzers and gag flowers, he never really divulged a full backstory. What we do know from this version of the Joker is that he was a high-school dropout, hypnotist, and “master of disguise” who turned to crime. One episode featured a mugshot of him without the clown makeup, suggesting that it was a put-on, but Romero personally subscribed to the “chemicals turned Joker’s hair green” backstory.
The Killing Joke (1988)
Hot off the release of his acclaimed Watchmen graphic novels, DC’s golden boy of the post-Bronze Age, Alan Moore, adapted the 1951 Red Hood story for his own take on the Joker mythos in a one-off graphic novel The Killing Joke. In Moore’s seminal version, the Joker was a mild-mannered engineer who quit his job at a chemical plant to pursue his dream of stand-up comedy. After failing miserably at comedy, he decides to help some criminals break into the chemical plant so that he can make some money for his pregnant wife, Jeannie. While planning the crime, Jeannie and their unborn child die in an unspecified accident, and later, at the chemical plant, Batman scares the engineer (now the Red Hood — keeping up?) into the plant’s chemical waste catch basin. A pipe sweeps him outside, where he finds his appearance altered by the chemicals. That transformation and the grief over his wife’s death drive him to become the Joker.
Tim Burton’s Batman (1989)
In Tim Burton’s Batman, Jack Nicholson plays Jack Napier, a Gotham City mobster responsible for mugging and killing Bruce Wayne’s parents. Years later, he gets set up by a mob boss who plans to have him killed by a crooked cop at a chemical plant. Batman stops the accident, but Napier falls into a vat of chemicals (is that a motif I smell, or is it just that noxious vat of chemicals?) altering his visage and driving him, well, batty. In a delightfully 1980s touch, the Joker’s smile is due to a botched plastic surgery job following the accident.
Mask of the Phantasm (1993)
In this theatrically released adaptation of Batman: The Animated Series, the Mark Hamill–voiced Joker got his start as a hit man and chauffeur for Gotham City mob boss Salvatore Valestra. After carrying out a hit for him, the Man Who Would Be Joker started his own crime outfit, and endured a, yup, chemical plant accident that turned him extra Joker-y.
Batman Confidential , “Lovers and Madmen” (2007-2008)
In this limited series that let different writers get creative with the Bat-canon, the erstwhile Joker is introduced as Jack, a former hit man for a Gotham City crime family called the Berlantis. In this version, Batman is the one who actually causes the Jack’s smile-shaped scar, during a showdown between the two. It’s all very Harry and Voldemort, entwining their two fates. And then — because this ain’t your grand-dad’s origin story — instead of falling into chemicals at the chemical plant, the chemicals fall onto Jack, completing his transformation into the Joker.
The Dark Knight (2008)
Christopher Nolan intended to leave his iteration of the Joker intentionally vague, making him all the more elemental a force of nature. As with comic-book versions of the Joker, this one’s an unreliable narrator who gives differing accounts for his Glasgow grin and penchant for chaos. In one, he carves the smile into his own face leading his wife to leave him; in another, the disfigurement was an abusive parent’s doing. And there are no chemical vats here; Joker goes incognito in one scene, makeup off and the swamp green seemingly washed out of his hair, insinuating that the discoloring is a choice. Those dark under-eye bags are all real, though.
Batman: Arkham Asylum (2009)
In Batman: Arkham Asylum, we get a chance to read the Joker’s patient file, which lacks a “precise psychological diagnosis” and adds that, “His past is unknown; conflicting, unconfirmed reports state that he was a failed comedian, a petty thief, and a broken family man.” In recorded patient interviews, a doctor mentions a past “multiple personality disorder” diagnosis, a reference to the Joker’s “super-sanity” diagnosis in Grant Morrison’s original Arkham Asylum graphic novel, which offered an explanation for why his personality flits between goofy and sinister depending on the interpretation. The Joker (Mark Hamill) then lies about his childhood, claiming, “I was born in a small fishing village. I always wanted to join the circus, but my father wouldn’t really let me.” Later, when he says, “I hate small confined spaces, reminds me of my childhood,” well, that might have some merit, actually. Asked if he’s lying, he says, “Who knows? I certainly don’t.” Us neither!
Batman: Streets of Gotham, “The House of Hush”(2010–2011)
In Paul Dini’s story, we meet a foster child named Sonny, who is treated at a clinic by Martha Kane, a kind, matronly figure and Batman’s actual future mother. Sonny is eventually the victim of a chemical laughing gas attack by gangster Salvatore Guzzo, who firebombs the clinic and kidnaps Sonny. The mobsters abuse and molest Sonny, and his broken jaw incorrectly re-aligns into what would become his Jokerish grimace. Sonny-turned-Joker gets his revenge in adulthood, sicking hyenas on Guzzo to eat him alive.
Batman: Zero Year (2013–2014)
This year-long run puts the “Joker” or “THE Joker” thing to rest, because there’s no real Joker to speak of, at all. Instead, in this chronicle of Batman’s, um, zero-eth year, the caped crusader faces off against a Red Hood, called Red Hood One. If you’ve been reading through this whole piece, you’ll remember the Red Hood backstory as one of the Joker’s first. Then again, this arc never explicitly ties Red Hood One to the Joker. So what tips this over the edge into Probably Joker Origin Story territory? Why, because Red Hood One escapes a Batman face off by jumping into a vat of chemicals, of course!
Batman: Endgame (2014–2015)
In Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s Batman: Endgame run of comics, the two reimagine the Joker as an immortal evil entity, potentially Beelzebub incarnate, haunting Gotham City throughout centuries of its history. He’s revealed to be hiding in the shadows in old newspaper photographs, and the like. We have to give Snyder and Capullo props for coming up with a backstory devoid of the words “mobster” and “vat,” but the whole immortal ancient evil clown haunting an American town thing does seem to owe a lot to Pennywise.
Suicide Squad (2016)
Mercifully little time is spent on Jared Leto’s Joker in Suicide Squad, although it does mean Viola Davis had to put up with his on-set B.S. for nothing. All we know about the flashy criminal juggalo’s backstory is that he was a mental patient at Arkham Asylum who converted his psychiatrist to a life of lovesick wrongdoing. (Hi, Harley Quinn!)
The LEGO Batman Movie (2017)
In my personal favorite Batman property, we don’t get the Joker’s entire origin story, but we do know that he’s shared some pretty good memories with Batman over the years. Now, he just wants his arch-rival to acknowledge that what the two of them share is special. If Heath Ledger’s Joker is relatable to incels and flight risks, LEGO Joker is a true anti-hero for the rest of us.
Gotham (2014–2019)
From the very beginning of its run, Gotham teased the idea of a Joker origin story with the Arkham-bound circus member, Jerome Valeska (Cameron Monaghan). Described by showrunners as a “proto-Joker,” in the show’s fourth season, he died, was resurrected, and died again — but not before he was able to stage an attack against his twin brother Jeremiah, using laughing gas to infect him with the Joker’s mania (and spark his skin to turn a clownish complexion). If Jerome represented the Joker’s anarchic side, Jeremiah was a calculating schemer. In the same way that the Arkham Asylum arc used multiple personalities/super-sanity to explain away decades of extreme tonal shifts in the character, Gotham used the time-honored TV drama tactic of “because twins!” The mythos all came together in the 2019 episode “Ace of Chemicals,” in which Bruce Wayne chases Jeremiah into a — say it with me! — vat of chemicals! When he resurfaces in a later episode with a hyena laugh and purple suit, he’s in full J mode.
Todd Phillips’s Joker (2019)
Joker. Much has been made of the dropped “The,” but Jack Nicholson’s version also went by the Cher-like one-word Joker moniker. This one seems to have ditched some of the more supernatural, heightened elements of the backstory (sorry, vats of chemical waste purists!) in favor of a gritty, realistic take, incorporating elements from The Killing Joke’s failed comedian story and what appears to be a more grounded look at the character’s psychosis. Arthur is a clown and aspiring stand-up, who lives with and cares for his aging single mother, Penny Fleck, and regularly visits a social worker assigned to him after a stay in a hospital for mental illness. Arthur’s mom, we learn, is a former employee of Thomas Wayne, who believes the man to be a savior for Gotham. We won’t spoil the details of Arthur’s complete backstory here; all in all, we’re meant to believe that a combination of trauma, mental-health issues and continued marginalization pushed him to become the Joker.
By Rebecca Alter
“If I’m going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!” Photo: Niko Tavernise/Warner Bros.
“Fool you once, shame on you, fool you twice, joker’s trick … ” Such are the immortal words of the parody account @jokers_trick, which tweets utterly fake, chaotic evil Joker-isms with the unhinged zeal of a freshman Dark Knight fan. The account, with its quotes from scenes that never really existed in any film or TV show, is as good an introduction as any into the self-consciously *~*twisted*~* world of the Joker — or, ahem, Joker. As with any enduring comic-book character, Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime has gone through so many rebirths and reiterations over the decades (between his original DC run, the iconic Adam West TV series, the animated shows, the video games, and the live-action films), that’s it’s hard to believe a line like the above hasn’t already been written. Has it?
Joker’s whole shtick — no matter the medium — is that the character is a loopy, confused liar with an ever-shifting backstory. As he quips in the 1988 Alan Moore comic Batman: The Killing Joke, “I mean, what is it with you? What made you what you are? Girlfriend killed by the mob, maybe? Brother carved up by some mugger? Something like that, I bet. Something like that … Something like that happened to me, you know. I … I’m not exactly sure what it was. Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another … If I’m going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!” Indeed, keeping all of the character’s origin stories straight can be enough to drive even the most ardent Batstan into Arkham Asylum or the depths of @jokers_trick. So allow us to lay out the deck for you. Turn up the Steve Miller Band, put on your Boo Boo the Fool nose, and dive in to the chemical waste below, because we took this job extremely why-so-seriously.
Batman #1 (1940)
Like yin and yang, or clowns and flying rodents, the Joker has been around for nearly as long as his archrival, having been introduced in the very first issue of Batman #1. He arrived without an origin story, already a psychopath and killing for fun with his special toxin dubbed “Joker’s venom,” which somehow left his victims with a permanent grin on their faces. The DC artists (Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson are credited with creating the character) initially intended to kill off Joker in order to make Batman appear more competent, but an editor allegedly reneged at the last minute, prompting the artists to hastily add a frame showing that the Joker had survived the issue, living to trick another day. By 1942, the writers had transformed him from a psychotic mass murderer into more of a goofy prankster, to better market the comics to kiddos. Because yeah, stuff like this isn’t disturbing at all.
Detective Comics #168, “The Man Behind the Red Hood!” (1951)
This issue, penned by the character’s co-creator Bill Finger, was the first to demystify the Joker’s origins. According to Finger, the Joker was already committing crimes under a different alias — the Red Hood — when, one night as he was trying to rob a factory and evade Batman, he dove into a pool of chemical water. When he emerged, he was sporting the white skin, green hair, and general Billie Eilish look we’ve come to associate with the Joker.
Batman TV Series(1966)
personally subscribed to the “chemicals turned Joker’s hair green” backstory.
What Adam West’s live-action Batman series lacked in things like three-dimensional characterization and story complexity, it more than made up for in panache. Among the series’ many cultural contributions is Cesar Romero’s performance as a fun, over-the-top Joker. He only appeared in a handful of episodes per season, and, seemingly preoccupied with his metal hand buzzers and gag flowers, he never really divulged a full backstory. What we do know from this version of the Joker is that he was a high-school dropout, hypnotist, and “master of disguise” who turned to crime. One episode featured a mugshot of him without the clown makeup, suggesting that it was a put-on, but Romero personally subscribed to the “chemicals turned Joker’s hair green” backstory.
The Killing Joke (1988)
Hot off the release of his acclaimed Watchmen graphic novels, DC’s golden boy of the post-Bronze Age, Alan Moore, adapted the 1951 Red Hood story for his own take on the Joker mythos in a one-off graphic novel The Killing Joke. In Moore’s seminal version, the Joker was a mild-mannered engineer who quit his job at a chemical plant to pursue his dream of stand-up comedy. After failing miserably at comedy, he decides to help some criminals break into the chemical plant so that he can make some money for his pregnant wife, Jeannie. While planning the crime, Jeannie and their unborn child die in an unspecified accident, and later, at the chemical plant, Batman scares the engineer (now the Red Hood — keeping up?) into the plant’s chemical waste catch basin. A pipe sweeps him outside, where he finds his appearance altered by the chemicals. That transformation and the grief over his wife’s death drive him to become the Joker.
Tim Burton’s Batman (1989)
In Tim Burton’s Batman, Jack Nicholson plays Jack Napier, a Gotham City mobster responsible for mugging and killing Bruce Wayne’s parents. Years later, he gets set up by a mob boss who plans to have him killed by a crooked cop at a chemical plant. Batman stops the accident, but Napier falls into a vat of chemicals (is that a motif I smell, or is it just that noxious vat of chemicals?) altering his visage and driving him, well, batty. In a delightfully 1980s touch, the Joker’s smile is due to a botched plastic surgery job following the accident.
Mask of the Phantasm (1993)
In this theatrically released adaptation of Batman: The Animated Series, the Mark Hamill–voiced Joker got his start as a hit man and chauffeur for Gotham City mob boss Salvatore Valestra. After carrying out a hit for him, the Man Who Would Be Joker started his own crime outfit, and endured a, yup, chemical plant accident that turned him extra Joker-y.
Batman Confidential , “Lovers and Madmen” (2007-2008)
In this limited series that let different writers get creative with the Bat-canon, the erstwhile Joker is introduced as Jack, a former hit man for a Gotham City crime family called the Berlantis. In this version, Batman is the one who actually causes the Jack’s smile-shaped scar, during a showdown between the two. It’s all very Harry and Voldemort, entwining their two fates. And then — because this ain’t your grand-dad’s origin story — instead of falling into chemicals at the chemical plant, the chemicals fall onto Jack, completing his transformation into the Joker.
The Dark Knight (2008)
Christopher Nolan intended to leave his iteration of the Joker intentionally vague, making him all the more elemental a force of nature. As with comic-book versions of the Joker, this one’s an unreliable narrator who gives differing accounts for his Glasgow grin and penchant for chaos. In one, he carves the smile into his own face leading his wife to leave him; in another, the disfigurement was an abusive parent’s doing. And there are no chemical vats here; Joker goes incognito in one scene, makeup off and the swamp green seemingly washed out of his hair, insinuating that the discoloring is a choice. Those dark under-eye bags are all real, though.
Batman: Arkham Asylum (2009)
In Batman: Arkham Asylum, we get a chance to read the Joker’s patient file, which lacks a “precise psychological diagnosis” and adds that, “His past is unknown; conflicting, unconfirmed reports state that he was a failed comedian, a petty thief, and a broken family man.” In recorded patient interviews, a doctor mentions a past “multiple personality disorder” diagnosis, a reference to the Joker’s “super-sanity” diagnosis in Grant Morrison’s original Arkham Asylum graphic novel, which offered an explanation for why his personality flits between goofy and sinister depending on the interpretation. The Joker (Mark Hamill) then lies about his childhood, claiming, “I was born in a small fishing village. I always wanted to join the circus, but my father wouldn’t really let me.” Later, when he says, “I hate small confined spaces, reminds me of my childhood,” well, that might have some merit, actually. Asked if he’s lying, he says, “Who knows? I certainly don’t.” Us neither!
Batman: Streets of Gotham, “The House of Hush”(2010–2011)
In Paul Dini’s story, we meet a foster child named Sonny, who is treated at a clinic by Martha Kane, a kind, matronly figure and Batman’s actual future mother. Sonny is eventually the victim of a chemical laughing gas attack by gangster Salvatore Guzzo, who firebombs the clinic and kidnaps Sonny. The mobsters abuse and molest Sonny, and his broken jaw incorrectly re-aligns into what would become his Jokerish grimace. Sonny-turned-Joker gets his revenge in adulthood, sicking hyenas on Guzzo to eat him alive.
Batman: Zero Year (2013–2014)
This year-long run puts the “Joker” or “THE Joker” thing to rest, because there’s no real Joker to speak of, at all. Instead, in this chronicle of Batman’s, um, zero-eth year, the caped crusader faces off against a Red Hood, called Red Hood One. If you’ve been reading through this whole piece, you’ll remember the Red Hood backstory as one of the Joker’s first. Then again, this arc never explicitly ties Red Hood One to the Joker. So what tips this over the edge into Probably Joker Origin Story territory? Why, because Red Hood One escapes a Batman face off by jumping into a vat of chemicals, of course!
Batman: Endgame (2014–2015)
In Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s Batman: Endgame run of comics, the two reimagine the Joker as an immortal evil entity, potentially Beelzebub incarnate, haunting Gotham City throughout centuries of its history. He’s revealed to be hiding in the shadows in old newspaper photographs, and the like. We have to give Snyder and Capullo props for coming up with a backstory devoid of the words “mobster” and “vat,” but the whole immortal ancient evil clown haunting an American town thing does seem to owe a lot to Pennywise.
Suicide Squad (2016)
Mercifully little time is spent on Jared Leto’s Joker in Suicide Squad, although it does mean Viola Davis had to put up with his on-set B.S. for nothing. All we know about the flashy criminal juggalo’s backstory is that he was a mental patient at Arkham Asylum who converted his psychiatrist to a life of lovesick wrongdoing. (Hi, Harley Quinn!)
The LEGO Batman Movie (2017)
In my personal favorite Batman property, we don’t get the Joker’s entire origin story, but we do know that he’s shared some pretty good memories with Batman over the years. Now, he just wants his arch-rival to acknowledge that what the two of them share is special. If Heath Ledger’s Joker is relatable to incels and flight risks, LEGO Joker is a true anti-hero for the rest of us.
Gotham (2014–2019)
From the very beginning of its run, Gotham teased the idea of a Joker origin story with the Arkham-bound circus member, Jerome Valeska (Cameron Monaghan). Described by showrunners as a “proto-Joker,” in the show’s fourth season, he died, was resurrected, and died again — but not before he was able to stage an attack against his twin brother Jeremiah, using laughing gas to infect him with the Joker’s mania (and spark his skin to turn a clownish complexion). If Jerome represented the Joker’s anarchic side, Jeremiah was a calculating schemer. In the same way that the Arkham Asylum arc used multiple personalities/super-sanity to explain away decades of extreme tonal shifts in the character, Gotham used the time-honored TV drama tactic of “because twins!” The mythos all came together in the 2019 episode “Ace of Chemicals,” in which Bruce Wayne chases Jeremiah into a — say it with me! — vat of chemicals! When he resurfaces in a later episode with a hyena laugh and purple suit, he’s in full J mode.
Todd Phillips’s Joker (2019)
Joker. Much has been made of the dropped “The,” but Jack Nicholson’s version also went by the Cher-like one-word Joker moniker. This one seems to have ditched some of the more supernatural, heightened elements of the backstory (sorry, vats of chemical waste purists!) in favor of a gritty, realistic take, incorporating elements from The Killing Joke’s failed comedian story and what appears to be a more grounded look at the character’s psychosis. Arthur is a clown and aspiring stand-up, who lives with and cares for his aging single mother, Penny Fleck, and regularly visits a social worker assigned to him after a stay in a hospital for mental illness. Arthur’s mom, we learn, is a former employee of Thomas Wayne, who believes the man to be a savior for Gotham. We won’t spoil the details of Arthur’s complete backstory here; all in all, we’re meant to believe that a combination of trauma, mental-health issues and continued marginalization pushed him to become the Joker.
How the Joker Became Batman’s Ultimate Villain
By Abraham Riesman@abrahamjoseph
Cover of Batman No. 251. Photo: DC Entertainment/Neal Adams; Dick Giordano; Tom Ziuko
One of the most fascinating aspects of superhero fiction is the ease with which a character’s initial creator can become its least important author. Monthly comic books have been and continue to be the genre’s womb, and they’re a fundamentally iterative medium. As the years and issues wear on, the writers and artists who conceive of characters frequently leave their creations behind, only for new folks to pick them up and run with them. That often means the first version of a figure isn’t nearly as resonant with audiences as a subsequent one, which might take that figure’s core ideas and tweak or overhaul them so that they really sing for an audience.
There are well-known examples of such character arcs among the good guys: Martin Nodell invented the Green Lantern in the 1940s, but the only reason you’ve heard his name was due to a complete reimagining of his world in the ’60s by John Broome and Gil Kane. The X-Men originated in a 1963 comic written by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, but it was only with the arrival of writer Chris Claremont more than a decade later that the mutants truly crystallized into the versions that are currently famous. The reason Daredevil has had a movie and a TV show is because Frank Miller reinvented him in the ’80s. And so on. But the same thing can happen with villains: Mister Freeze was a tossed-off gimmick until Batman: The Animated Series made him a tragic figure; Magneto gained a core component of his character when he was retrofitted with a Jewish identity; and, perhaps lesser known than the others, there’s the rebirth of the Joker.
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INREAD INVENTED BY TEADS
Nowadays, one tends to think of the Clown Prince of Crime as — to borrow a term from video games — the Final Boss of the Batman mythos. He is, as Neil Gaiman put it in a comics story a decade ago, the White Whale to Batsy’s Ahab, the Moriarty to his Holmes. Where Batman pursues a near-fascistic vision of order, the Joker is what Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight refers to as an “agent of chaos.” The two are matter and antimatter, oil and water, an unstoppable force and an immovable object, a mythic hero and a trickster god, or any number of other overwrought metaphors.
While you can certainly tell great stories with other entrants in Batman’s rogues gallery — Two-Face, Catwoman, Poison Ivy, what have you — none of them fascinate the hero and his readers the way the Joker does. There’s a reason he’s the first of DC Comics’ Caped Crusader’s antagonists to get his own movie, which comes out this week: His wanton murderousness is the platonic ideal of everything Batman struggles against. And yet, it was not always thus. In fact, it wasn’t until a now-obscure story was published in 1973 that the Joker turned a corner and started to become what he is now. The tale is called “The Joker’s Five-Way Revenge” and it appeared in the 251st issue of Batman, which hit stands in July of that year. Written by Denny O’Neil and drawn by Neal Adams, it is one of the most important Batman stories ever told.
Prior to its publication, the Joker was just another Bat baddie. Granted, he debuted in the first issue of Batman back in 1940, but that series was actually only the second one to star Batman, popping up after the protagonist’s own debut in Detective Comics the previous year. Accounts of Joker’s creation differ wildly, as is sadly common for so many figures in the petty, fly-by-night world of superhero comics. Each member of the trio of Batman mythos’ founding fathers — the late Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson — at one time admitted that the Joker had been partially inspired by actor Conrad Veidt’s portrayal of a man cursed with a permanent grin in the 1928 film The Man Who Laughs, based on the novel of the same name by Victor Hugo. However, the three men emphasized their own respective contributions when recounting the origins of Joker, often at the expense of one or both of their colleagues. The details get wonky; you can read more in the remarkably detailed Wikipedia entry on the matter. Robinson would eventually claim that he’d always aimed to have Joker become Batman’s archvillain, but the fact is that the character never really ascended to that role until decades after his creation. He appeared regularly in Batman comics, but was no more memorable than other gimmicky bad guys.
Excerpt from Batman No. 251. Photo: DC Entertainment/Neal Adams; Dick Giordano; Tom Ziuko
In the late 1960s, a campy TV adaptation of Batman featured actor Cesar Romero in the role of Joker (we would do well to remember that this means the villain was once played by a Latino), but Romero’s version similarly blended in with the rest of the show’s murderer’s row. In the 1966 movie that emerged from the series, he was merely part of a coalition of villains. The Joker was still just another antagonist, one with the dull twist that he looked and acted like a clown. To make matters worse, the Batman of the early ’40s to the early ’70s wasn’t an especially grim or gritty character — the hero brimmed with sunshine in that age of comic-book self-censorship.
But the whole gestalt of Batman began to change on a fundamental level in 1969. That’s when O’Neil and Adams took the reins of the character, tasked by editor Julius Schwartz with taking the hero back to his dark roots after the collapse of the bright TV show. The pair were already famed in the world of comics and they wasted no time in their mission to bring Batsy back into the shadows. They specialized in villains, cranking out a run of stories that introduced the tortured mutant Man-Bat and the ecoterrorist mastermind Ra’s al Ghul, among others. But an order from Schwartz made them roll their eyes.
“At some point, our editor, Julie Schwartz, basically said, ‘You know, guys, we gotta bring in the clowns,’” Adams recalls. They were headed in a direction of realism when they were told they had to resurrect a historically goofy lineup of past Bat stories. “So what do you do with a Joker?” Adams remembers them asking themselves. “Well, we took a harder edge. We decided that Joker was just a little crazy.” Prior to that, Joker hadn’t really been given much in the way of motivation or nuance; he was just a guy who liked committing crimes in a silly fashion. O’Neil — who couldn’t be reached for comment — and Adams were the first to make the decision: Joker would be a homicidal, mentally unstable maniac. They didn’t explore his origin story, but they would suggest through his actions that there was something innately wrong with him that made him lethally dangerous.
What O’Neil and Adams arrived at — as one might expect from the title of that 251st issue — was a story of revenge. It was established from the very beginning that theirs was a harsher Joker saga than any before it. Open the comic and see a full-page panel of the Joker’s cackling rictus as he drives a vehicle, complete with ominous narration the likes of which had never been associated with him: “From the darkness of a country road somewhere north of Gotham City … and from the greater dark of a past filled with evil … comes a terrifyingly familiar face! Thunder racks the earth and lightning scars the sky and wetness streams from the clouds like tears of mourning! It is as though nature itself were weeping! And well it might, for there is death abroad this night!”
Over the course of 23 pages, fans got a tale in which the Joker revisits five of his former thugs, all of whom had betrayed him, attempting to murder each one of them while Batman races to stop him. Batsy is unsuccessful with the first four but just barely manages to save the fifth. All the while, the killings become more elaborate and gruesome. At one point, a notable Joker trope is introduced: He has the chance to kill Batman but chooses not to because the death wouldn’t be grand enough to befit the hero, whom he has a twisted affection for. In the final set piece, Joker imagines an elaborate deathtrap for a thug in a wheelchair, whereby he’ll be pushed into a tank with a ravenous shark. Batman and Joker strike a deal before the thug is killed; Batman will take the thug’s place. But Joker welches on the deal and pushes them both into the tank.
The climax is, paradoxically enough, the kind of goofy thing that might happen in the ’60s TV show: an underwater Batman wildly swinging a wheelchair at the wall of a giant aquarium in order to shatter it and escape. He’s successful and manages to catch up to the fleeing Joker when the latter trips and falls on an oil spill that he’d created as part of his murder plot, after which Batsy and Joker partake in some concluding banter. “You’re not laughing!? Don’t you see the joke?” Batman asks. “No! Not funny!” is Joker’s reply. Batman rebuts him: “You’re wrong! It is funny — to think that you — my arch-enemy — would make me grateful for … pollution!” (I’ll admit that I don’t really find it funny, either, so the Joker gets a point from me.)
Excerpt from Batman No. 251. Photo: DC Entertainment/Neal Adams; Dick Giordano; Tom Ziuko
That key word, “arch-enemy,” summed up nicely what the comic had achieved: It set up the Joker as a fearsome archetype of supreme importance in Batman lore for generations to come. Without Batman #251, we likely wouldn’t have had the Joker starring in such films as the Tim Burton–directed Batman, the aforementioned The Dark Knight, or Todd Phillips’s brutal new Joaquin Phoenix star vehicle — the latter of which is already being billed as the character’s apotheosis. The comic most often mentioned as source material for Joker is Alan Moore and Brian Bolland’s Batman: The Killing Joke, which posited a possible origin story for the Clown Prince of Crime. But as titanic as that 1988 story is, it likely wouldn’t have been possible if O’Neil and Adams hadn’t suggested a brutal interiority and chaotic instability for the character 15 years earlier.
The character has evolved greatly since 1973, but his fundamental status in the canon hasn’t changed. Adams saw the new film and is confident and more than a little proud that the ideas from his and O’Neil’s 46-year-old comic made it to the bad guy’s biggest moment yet. As he puts it, “I think that the result of that egg that Denny and I laid came out to be a really wonderful chicken.” Sounds about right for a guy who’s into jokes.
By Abraham Riesman@abrahamjoseph
Cover of Batman No. 251. Photo: DC Entertainment/Neal Adams; Dick Giordano; Tom Ziuko
One of the most fascinating aspects of superhero fiction is the ease with which a character’s initial creator can become its least important author. Monthly comic books have been and continue to be the genre’s womb, and they’re a fundamentally iterative medium. As the years and issues wear on, the writers and artists who conceive of characters frequently leave their creations behind, only for new folks to pick them up and run with them. That often means the first version of a figure isn’t nearly as resonant with audiences as a subsequent one, which might take that figure’s core ideas and tweak or overhaul them so that they really sing for an audience.
There are well-known examples of such character arcs among the good guys: Martin Nodell invented the Green Lantern in the 1940s, but the only reason you’ve heard his name was due to a complete reimagining of his world in the ’60s by John Broome and Gil Kane. The X-Men originated in a 1963 comic written by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, but it was only with the arrival of writer Chris Claremont more than a decade later that the mutants truly crystallized into the versions that are currently famous. The reason Daredevil has had a movie and a TV show is because Frank Miller reinvented him in the ’80s. And so on. But the same thing can happen with villains: Mister Freeze was a tossed-off gimmick until Batman: The Animated Series made him a tragic figure; Magneto gained a core component of his character when he was retrofitted with a Jewish identity; and, perhaps lesser known than the others, there’s the rebirth of the Joker.
ADVERTISEMENT
INREAD INVENTED BY TEADS
Nowadays, one tends to think of the Clown Prince of Crime as — to borrow a term from video games — the Final Boss of the Batman mythos. He is, as Neil Gaiman put it in a comics story a decade ago, the White Whale to Batsy’s Ahab, the Moriarty to his Holmes. Where Batman pursues a near-fascistic vision of order, the Joker is what Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight refers to as an “agent of chaos.” The two are matter and antimatter, oil and water, an unstoppable force and an immovable object, a mythic hero and a trickster god, or any number of other overwrought metaphors.
While you can certainly tell great stories with other entrants in Batman’s rogues gallery — Two-Face, Catwoman, Poison Ivy, what have you — none of them fascinate the hero and his readers the way the Joker does. There’s a reason he’s the first of DC Comics’ Caped Crusader’s antagonists to get his own movie, which comes out this week: His wanton murderousness is the platonic ideal of everything Batman struggles against. And yet, it was not always thus. In fact, it wasn’t until a now-obscure story was published in 1973 that the Joker turned a corner and started to become what he is now. The tale is called “The Joker’s Five-Way Revenge” and it appeared in the 251st issue of Batman, which hit stands in July of that year. Written by Denny O’Neil and drawn by Neal Adams, it is one of the most important Batman stories ever told.
Prior to its publication, the Joker was just another Bat baddie. Granted, he debuted in the first issue of Batman back in 1940, but that series was actually only the second one to star Batman, popping up after the protagonist’s own debut in Detective Comics the previous year. Accounts of Joker’s creation differ wildly, as is sadly common for so many figures in the petty, fly-by-night world of superhero comics. Each member of the trio of Batman mythos’ founding fathers — the late Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson — at one time admitted that the Joker had been partially inspired by actor Conrad Veidt’s portrayal of a man cursed with a permanent grin in the 1928 film The Man Who Laughs, based on the novel of the same name by Victor Hugo. However, the three men emphasized their own respective contributions when recounting the origins of Joker, often at the expense of one or both of their colleagues. The details get wonky; you can read more in the remarkably detailed Wikipedia entry on the matter. Robinson would eventually claim that he’d always aimed to have Joker become Batman’s archvillain, but the fact is that the character never really ascended to that role until decades after his creation. He appeared regularly in Batman comics, but was no more memorable than other gimmicky bad guys.
Excerpt from Batman No. 251. Photo: DC Entertainment/Neal Adams; Dick Giordano; Tom Ziuko
In the late 1960s, a campy TV adaptation of Batman featured actor Cesar Romero in the role of Joker (we would do well to remember that this means the villain was once played by a Latino), but Romero’s version similarly blended in with the rest of the show’s murderer’s row. In the 1966 movie that emerged from the series, he was merely part of a coalition of villains. The Joker was still just another antagonist, one with the dull twist that he looked and acted like a clown. To make matters worse, the Batman of the early ’40s to the early ’70s wasn’t an especially grim or gritty character — the hero brimmed with sunshine in that age of comic-book self-censorship.
But the whole gestalt of Batman began to change on a fundamental level in 1969. That’s when O’Neil and Adams took the reins of the character, tasked by editor Julius Schwartz with taking the hero back to his dark roots after the collapse of the bright TV show. The pair were already famed in the world of comics and they wasted no time in their mission to bring Batsy back into the shadows. They specialized in villains, cranking out a run of stories that introduced the tortured mutant Man-Bat and the ecoterrorist mastermind Ra’s al Ghul, among others. But an order from Schwartz made them roll their eyes.
“At some point, our editor, Julie Schwartz, basically said, ‘You know, guys, we gotta bring in the clowns,’” Adams recalls. They were headed in a direction of realism when they were told they had to resurrect a historically goofy lineup of past Bat stories. “So what do you do with a Joker?” Adams remembers them asking themselves. “Well, we took a harder edge. We decided that Joker was just a little crazy.” Prior to that, Joker hadn’t really been given much in the way of motivation or nuance; he was just a guy who liked committing crimes in a silly fashion. O’Neil — who couldn’t be reached for comment — and Adams were the first to make the decision: Joker would be a homicidal, mentally unstable maniac. They didn’t explore his origin story, but they would suggest through his actions that there was something innately wrong with him that made him lethally dangerous.
What O’Neil and Adams arrived at — as one might expect from the title of that 251st issue — was a story of revenge. It was established from the very beginning that theirs was a harsher Joker saga than any before it. Open the comic and see a full-page panel of the Joker’s cackling rictus as he drives a vehicle, complete with ominous narration the likes of which had never been associated with him: “From the darkness of a country road somewhere north of Gotham City … and from the greater dark of a past filled with evil … comes a terrifyingly familiar face! Thunder racks the earth and lightning scars the sky and wetness streams from the clouds like tears of mourning! It is as though nature itself were weeping! And well it might, for there is death abroad this night!”
Over the course of 23 pages, fans got a tale in which the Joker revisits five of his former thugs, all of whom had betrayed him, attempting to murder each one of them while Batman races to stop him. Batsy is unsuccessful with the first four but just barely manages to save the fifth. All the while, the killings become more elaborate and gruesome. At one point, a notable Joker trope is introduced: He has the chance to kill Batman but chooses not to because the death wouldn’t be grand enough to befit the hero, whom he has a twisted affection for. In the final set piece, Joker imagines an elaborate deathtrap for a thug in a wheelchair, whereby he’ll be pushed into a tank with a ravenous shark. Batman and Joker strike a deal before the thug is killed; Batman will take the thug’s place. But Joker welches on the deal and pushes them both into the tank.
The climax is, paradoxically enough, the kind of goofy thing that might happen in the ’60s TV show: an underwater Batman wildly swinging a wheelchair at the wall of a giant aquarium in order to shatter it and escape. He’s successful and manages to catch up to the fleeing Joker when the latter trips and falls on an oil spill that he’d created as part of his murder plot, after which Batsy and Joker partake in some concluding banter. “You’re not laughing!? Don’t you see the joke?” Batman asks. “No! Not funny!” is Joker’s reply. Batman rebuts him: “You’re wrong! It is funny — to think that you — my arch-enemy — would make me grateful for … pollution!” (I’ll admit that I don’t really find it funny, either, so the Joker gets a point from me.)
Excerpt from Batman No. 251. Photo: DC Entertainment/Neal Adams; Dick Giordano; Tom Ziuko
That key word, “arch-enemy,” summed up nicely what the comic had achieved: It set up the Joker as a fearsome archetype of supreme importance in Batman lore for generations to come. Without Batman #251, we likely wouldn’t have had the Joker starring in such films as the Tim Burton–directed Batman, the aforementioned The Dark Knight, or Todd Phillips’s brutal new Joaquin Phoenix star vehicle — the latter of which is already being billed as the character’s apotheosis. The comic most often mentioned as source material for Joker is Alan Moore and Brian Bolland’s Batman: The Killing Joke, which posited a possible origin story for the Clown Prince of Crime. But as titanic as that 1988 story is, it likely wouldn’t have been possible if O’Neil and Adams hadn’t suggested a brutal interiority and chaotic instability for the character 15 years earlier.
The character has evolved greatly since 1973, but his fundamental status in the canon hasn’t changed. Adams saw the new film and is confident and more than a little proud that the ideas from his and O’Neil’s 46-year-old comic made it to the bad guy’s biggest moment yet. As he puts it, “I think that the result of that egg that Denny and I laid came out to be a really wonderful chicken.” Sounds about right for a guy who’s into jokes.
Because dc makes a lot of money off of joker... He doesn't die cause how else are they gonna make billions of dollars... If you were McDonald's and somebody said you can only make 2 choices.. Be a pop up shop an open up for a week and never open up again or open up everyday for decades and become a multi-billion dollar bizz which 1 you gonna choose? Well that's why joker isn't a 1 and done cause he generates to much money... Same with supes fake morals... If he kills other great villains won't return... It's all about economics period
Holy shit this was on point. Someone needs to make this a movie.
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THREE JOKERS #1 Review: Geoff Johns Tells His Own 'Killing Joke'
DC's Batman: Three Jokers is the culmination of years of work. But did the wait pay off? Find out in this spoiler-free review.
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