Bizarre writer extraordinaire Grant Morrison wrote this issue and Tony Daniel, Andy Kubert, David Finch, Scott Kollins, and Frank Quitely penciled it. The problem? Only Quitely's art is phenomenal, the others are average at best. Daniel's art is usually awe-inspiring stuff, but here it looks sloppy and unfocused. David Finch's art is also too dark, too odd. Quitely's is great, but he only does five pages. The story, albeit discombobulated and near incomprehensible, is actually entertaining and fairly readable. It deals with time and The Joker, and isn't really worth rehashing (good luck trying to explain it, anyway). As much as I admire Morrison, I really think that Batman has lost its edge since he was brought on board. He's certainly made things interesting, but more often than not he's presented a great premise only to go nowhere with it logically. Where's the dark Batman or the fun Batman? Morrison's Batman is a mixture of both with no footing in reality or fantasy. It's a mystery never fleshed out, a combination of everything that comes out unreadable. If Morrison didn't have Daniel or Quitely drawing such awesome pages, nobody would give him the time of day. Still, I enjoyed this issue more than most of Morrison's recent work. For starters, it's a self-comprised story with a beginning and ending, and while it doesn't make that much sense it's not totally baffling. And Quitely's art is so damn good, I'd pay to see him draw a fucking subway station for twenty pages. The dude's got it. ***
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