Three years ago, Robert and David thought they had left the DCU behind. But, with the advent of REBIRTH, they’ve returned, to see whether or not the promise of the NEW OLD (or perhaps, the OLD NEW) DC, can make them feel at home once more. They’re sharing those thoughts with you. This is Crossing Back.

Last time, we discussed three heavy hitters of the DC’s top tier of heroes – Aquaman, the Flash and the Green Lanterns – and how across the various titles they had released, they had grappled with their questions of primacy, immediacy and legacy.

This week, after some deliberation, we turn our attention to two Rebirth comics: Last week’s Nightwing Rebirth #1 and Titans Rebirth #1. Both titles deal with heroes who were definitional for particular eras, and whose effective “time-stamping” created a functional difficulty in a world where older mentors were reduced to a younger age, and a new generation of DCU stalwarts were unable to be abandoned. It is no coincidence that both feature the character of Dick Grayson, who stands in as the exemplar of their issues, but the contrasting approaches taken by the two creative teams shed light on the strengths and weaknesses of the Rebirth initiative.

We’re not reviewing these introductions as individual comics. While we certainly can’t resist comment, NerdSpan has individual reviews for the Rebirth titles, some up and others to come. (We’re happy to be flagged down elsewhere for our qualitative opinion.) Rather, we seek to carry on exploring each issue as it comes out in the spirit of investigating how well these comics contribute to building the an inclusive, interconnected, wondrous DCU we spoke about in the first Crossing Back.

Nightwing

Dick Grayson, the Boy Wonder, became Robin in the 1940s. Dick is older than Wonder Woman, older than Green Lantern, older than Captain America. With a history dating back, essentially, to the dawn of both the DC Universe and the emergent superhero genre, Dick Grayson is an ur-figure, the kid sidekick, invented to give Batman someone to talk to. It is only logical that Batman’s confidante was a child, a point of view and spokesperson for children who wished to be part of Batman’s world, yearning to be taken under his wing, a fulcrum for the swift transition from gothic urban pulp into more four-colour adventure fare.

If this wasn’t enough to make Dick important, Dick, ever a trendsetter, was the first character to noticeably age in mainstream superhero comics (at least as far as we’re aware), shifting from his ten-year old origin to a mid-teen somewhere in the early Sixties (around the time the “teen-ager” was becoming socially recognised as a discrete age bracket).

It’s worth setting out our theory on why Dick aging matters more than almost any other decision in comics history. Beforehand, Batman and Robin had been written as partners, more brothers than father and son, an intuitive and highly successful expression of the childhood fantasy of participation in important ‘adult’ business. This fantastical peer relationship become unstable in response to 1954’s Seduction of the Innocent and its unfounded panic over the perceived homoerotic subtext or Batman’s (too) young ward. The Bat-writers of the Sixties and early Seventies allowed Dick to hit puberty, becoming ready for at least the first blooms of David Cassidy-esque romance and for a perhaps more realistic contribution to the dynamic duo’s adventuring.

Dick aging was itself the loss of innocence for the nascent DCU in a way Wertham’s paranoiac allegations could never be. Dick’s aging introduced the spectre of mortality to Batman’s adventures in a way that the dire deathtraps and criminal capers never could. After all, if Robin was aging, then was Batman? Was Superman? Would there come a time when they retired, and a new generation of heroes had to take over the mantle?

Dick, as an ur-character, is inextricable from the DCU, but equally the thing he represents is change and growth. Dick’s story, despite missteps along the way, is inherently and joyously progressive. For each generation of readers, Dick has had a new identity. From teen heartthrob, Dick evolved into team leader, into one of DC’s first adult romantic and sexual partners, into come-of-age Nightwing, into – in time – Justice League-r and Batman, and a mentor in his own right.

When we set out to discuss Crossing Back, well before the first revived Rebirth title hit the stands, we were extremely conscious of the “Too Many Robins” problem. Fundamentally, the continual aggregation of Robins sits at the heart of every attempted rebooted timeline DC has ever attempted. Dick is the challenge DC faces with Rebirth, embodied. There is an argument to be made that every reboot, every crisis, is an attempt to reconcile a mature Dick Grayson with a Bruce Wayne in his prime, an attempt to have the Flash run fast enough to outpace Oedipus.

But genies cannot be put back in bottles. There is no question that Dick’s maturation is one of DC’s recurring successes. With every reboot, Dick emerges somehow with his essential history intact. Indeed, so integral was Dick’s progression that its value to the DCU formed the textual thesis of 2005’s Infinite Crisis. In making the case for the sometimes messy, impossible to reconcile approach of evolving, aggregating stories without reboots back to basics – basically, the “looking forward” half of the forward/backwards tension we’re picking at in these columns – Infinite Crisis argued (through the mouthpiece of Batman talking to Superman) that the narrative that allows Dick Grayson to come about is something that should be treasured and preserved – something better than even an idealised DC narrative of the days of yore could provide.

The New 52, then, was an interesting test case for Dick. From a logistical perspective, there is no question that it was grossly mishandled. The line-up of Robins were brutally mangled, the relative ages of Dick and Bruce implausible and undercutting and the on-again off-again existence of the Teen Titans and Titans were headache and rage inducing. It could be easy to write off as “nothing to see here”.

Thematically, however, and taken holistically, the question becomes more complicated. Perhaps it is because Dick has always been a nexus of malleability and sexuality, changeable without being in danger of being vanished or deleted, that he has become pivotal in introducing new and needed elements to the DCU. Dick has been shaped by the voices of women fans and writers, becoming a focal figure in discussions about the role of the female gaze. In Grayson, under Tom King, these thematic elements of Dick’s progression were highlighted, and enhanced. Dick’s portrayal took great strides in overcoming the sexism and homophobia that can be present in the often hyper-masculine power-fantasy of superheroics. He was portrayed in a manner welcoming to those attracted to men, partnering up and flirting with the Midnighter, one the DCU’s only openly gay characters. He engaged in amorous pursuits that were not shown as conquests, and the presentation of the character embraced the fan memeplex that has seen him dubbed as the possessor of “the best ass in comics”.

It is fitting for both this emphasis and this paradox then, that Nightwing proves possibly the most challenging step for Rebirth’s remit. It juggles, after all, boy Robin, teen Robin, Nightwing, Batman, Agent 37 and the existence of Bruce and dozens of other Robins. To the title’s absolute credit it discharges its duties perhaps the most admirably. We’re not seeking to claim that it is the best Rebirth title, particularly at this early stage, but with the possible exception of The Flash, no title has thus far married as much of the old and new as successfully.

When we began Crossing Back a few weeks ago, we set out what we saw as Rebirth’s best possible purpose:

‘New’ isn’t the same as modern. The first step to stable quality and respect is accepting that the DC Universe has a lot of interested parties to take care of. It’s a responsibility to take no sides, seek synergies, try new things, respect the entire past and tell new stories with the old characters and old stories with new characters.

Nightwing Rebirth wisely opens by referring to the previous status quo immediately before the New 52, pairing Dick Grayson with Damian Wayne. The second generation dynamic duo, who spent eighteen months together as Batman and Robin, developed a lively chemistry which single-handedly endeared Damian Wayne to fans, whilst providing Dick with a true opportunity to move from protege to mentor in Batman’s absence. It was a relationship that enriched both of them, disrupted by the reboot, and critically for many lapsed readers it will be the point where they left off with Dick Grayson. For readers who lapsed at the Flashpoint to come back and find the last critical relationship they understood has survived the travails – or been restored by Rebirth – is a clever way to re-establish trust.

The issue then pivots to spend time with the new relationships and status quo developed under the New 52 aegis. People unfamiliar with Grayson will have perhaps noted Dick Grayson’s superspy status only in passing, but Dick’s new relationships with his rival turned agency superior, his lethal girl school protégés, and his former semi-partner, Huntress, are all showcased by both Yanick Paquette’s dynamic art (with Nathan Fairbairn again showing the Rebirth initiative as consistently spectacular on colours), and Tim Seeley’s capturing of Dick’s warm, playful attitude to both his friends and foes.

The issue also spends time touching on Dick’s newfound friendship with Midnighter, showcased in both Grayson and Midnighter’s own spectacular solo title by Steve Orlando. The flirtatious, friendly rivalry is well-drawn, and speaks to a dynamic that could readily pair up with any Nightwing adventure yet to come. It also establishes Dick’s great strengths at relationship building – the comfort with which he seems ready to call on Midnighter (and vice-versa) speaks to his interpersonal abilities which are the hallmark of what makes Nightwing a great character to spend time with in the first place.

If a name is notably missing, this too seems to be by design. The issue wisely leaves Batman for the very last. There is no relationship as important as to who Dick Grayson is, nor is there a relationship that for reasons set out above, that is more threatened by continuity reshuffles and age shenanigans. Dick’s growth and change puts a clock on Batman, unless their foundational history as Batman and Robin is neglected. That is an element that can either be fled from, or embraced. The creative team wisely take the latter course here. All of these new elements shown in Dick Grayson’s life, from the old status quo to the new, are a way of showing yet again how far he’s come. Dick even summarises the roles he’s held and the relationships he has built (including re-confirming his status of having been Batman), and Bruce neither challenges nor runs from his former ward. Instead, he pauses to tell Dick how proud he is of him, and how excited he is for his future.

Given our comments above, it is important that Nightwing’s return to the classic black and blue does not feel like a retcon or backwards step. Dick doesn’t take backwards steps. Here, the creative team sold us on the story of a man who has brought something back with him from a long journey, but who is also ready to come home. The last Nightwing title, under the New 52 aegis, floundered in the wake of a disrupted Batfamily and wider DCU, left him without relationships or history to draw from. Here, in an event dedicated to the resumption of relationships and legacy, Nightwing Rebirth shows why Dick Grayson has always been at the centre of it all, where he belongs. And from here, we hope the new title is another opportunity for Dick to change again, to grow older, to learn more things, to progress into a better person. It is, after all, what Dick does.

Titans

If Dick Grayon’s storied history was emblematic of the changing eras of DC’s history, then the Titans were the heart of the DCU of the 1980s. In the wake of the rise of Marvel, the Titans were not just a sea-change, but are widely perceived as a turning of the tide for the whole DCU. Marv Wolfman and George Perez’s New Teen Titans is considered a critical moment which ushered in a shift from four-colour adventure to relationship drama. This change, in reality, has no single origin, nor was it ever entire but in terms of marking an era, 1980’s construction of Titans Tower built a new world, and the stories of Dick, Donna, Wally and the rest, really shaped the post-Crisis landscape.

Even so, the shift from the Teen Titans as superhero daycare for the children of caped crusaders to a soap operatic and chaotic comic juggling romance, betrayal, friendship and death by Judas Contract made almost no sense as soon as Crisis was done. Even as some of the tenor of the New Teen Titans spread across all the titles, the very restructuring was already squeezing out this middle generation of heroes. Only popularity saw them avoid going the way of Infinity Inc.

This second wave of seven Titans are always caught in the push-pull we seek to address in these columns, so it was with great interest that we turned our eyes to Titans: Rebirth. The results were … controversial (for this review team, and it would seem, the wider internet).

The issue tries to pull off a dual function by making the most of Rebirth’s key premise. Effectively, the reintroduction of Wally is played as the first step in an unfolding mystery – consistent with the conspiracy that threatens them and forms the central spine of the original DC Universe Rebirth book of a month or so ago – while at the same time signalling a restoration of the Titan’s glory days, emotionally reconnecting the characters with their best selves. These are presented as very close variants of their 80s incarnations. The book, of course, cannot take it all the way – Cyborg has moved up to the status of Justice Leaguer, Beast Boy, Starfire and Raven set to appear elsewhere and the book has Lillith returned to the fold.

Ultimately, whether the issue succeeded or failed seems likely to rely on your feelings going in. The book – albeit through a narrative that provides an excuse for direct exposition – tells the reader rather than shows them that the old Titans are back. The story is direct. Characters remember things and weep at how much has been forgotten. How susceptible you are to that as a raw pitch will likely be a function of either how much other weight is attributed to these relationships or how susceptible the reader is to openly textual emotional appeals.

In Titans, like DC Universe Rebirth, The Flash Rebirth and Wonder Woman Rebirth, the conceit of their central mysteries are that unlocking emotional attachments become the key to identifying the existence of the mystery. That makes establishing character and relationships a plot point, not just a function of background. The books can afford to be a little more expository, because exposition is a requisite service in the mystery stories – detectives follow clues and we delight in seeing them get closer on their trail. At its best, this conceit should drive Rebirth books to pick up both credit and steam for any given scene, at once giving readers plot details they desire (point one) and emotional beats that make them feel in tune with the characters (point two).

Titans is fairly explicit that it is seeking to perform the same one-two punch, with the characters aware of the vast cosmic changes that have crept through their lives, and resolving part of these changes with emotional flashbacks to the importance of their relationships with Wally. The book, however, faces greater structural and thematic challenges than the other Rebirth mysteries, and whether it cleared those hurdles is going to be more subjective.

Firstly, for this narrative to function, Titans Rebirth must serve almost entirely as an addendum to Rebith and Titans Hunt, bringing the pair together. This makes sense insofar as Hunt was the first major “windback” of the previous continuity post-Convergence. Although still ostensibly part of the New 52 continuity, this arc (by Dan Abnett, the same writer presently penning Titans) reunited the characters by reference to a “secret history”, obliquely hinting that their connections were closer than any of them could remember. Needing to resort to the classic “See Issue X” editorial caption, given Rebirth’s ostensibly fresh approach, feels alienating. Though we have regularly emphasised integrating the immediate past with earlier stories, a distinction can be drawn between drawing the links naturally, and needing to resort to a direct tie-in.

Secondly, by using the same structural trick again, one begins to question the proliferation of reality-rewriting nemeses. This weighs most heavily on Titans, and it fails to address it as elegantly as either Rebirth or Wonder Woman, both of which preceded it in entering this conceptual ground. DC Universe Rebirth shows its cards, setting out the mystery that it looks to solve in a way that is clear to the readers not the characters. Wonder Woman shows more of its working, detailing the changes and working from an immediate status quo that had been roundly rejected. Titans, accordingly, feels like more of an also-ran, playing a harmony in a minor key to the thunderous opening of DC Universe Rebirth, but not producing something as unique or as necessary as Wonder Woman’s relaunch is. This is not, per se, a problem with the craft of the book, but more emphasis needs to be given to the primacy of the experiences of the Titans – and ideally their conundrum would find a unifying factor with the manifold threads of threat to be woven together across the other Rebirth titles. Titans Rebirth hints at something bigger, but in so doing reduces its own Rebirth issue to at best prologue, and at worst a minor note in the overall symphony of the new DCU.

Minor notes, of course, have value. Many of the best comics ever crafted have focused away from the central movers and shakers of their fictional universe, relying on the strength of the character interactions and portrayals to inculcate audience affection and provide substance. This is the clear goal of the flashbacks that dominate the issue, but this conceit carries its own challenges.

The emotional flashbacks, clearly intending to stand as representational motifs for the “classic” (if not original) Titans run, face a range of obstacles. The mismatch between the early lineup and the Wolfman tenor stands out: Key characters are missing, then-elided inclusions feel different. More than this, the very overt nature of the “sudden recollection” feels more like a mental intrusion than a moment of epiphany. Flashbacks are different from emotional memory – they imply a degree of factual detail suddenly becoming apparent and emphasised in a specific way. The flashbacks – on the back of existing history rewrites – present characters whose lives are regularly overwritten, but who have little capacity to understand the changes.

This feels more coercive than the connection between Barry and Wally; that the new retro-history of the Titans may resemble what we knew, but it simply isn’t the emotional connections the eight heroes built up over the Wolfman period. In so far as the flashbacks have power, it is because they get the characters right, and the reintroduction of those characters has weight. That’s not the same as adequately establishing or re-establishing the nuance of relationships. In the end, expounding on one human connection – again like Rebirth – gives a greater ability to focus on the breadth of an emotional bond, but an entire team’s emotional fabric cannot be imparted in brief. In the length of a standard issue, it feels a little like Titans has opted to preach to the choir, rather than speak to the wider audience. If you’re happy to see characters you recognise introduced in a form more strongly resembling that with which you are familiar, they are likely to land. If the resemblance isn’t strong enough, or isn’t sufficient, there’s little else to recommend at this stage.

As noted, these are all structural and editorial issues, rather than simple issues of art or writing. The flashbacks do a remarkable job of portraying Titans-as-were in slice of life milieus, honing in with precision on details like Wally’s emotional openness and sense of fun. Affection for the characters shines through, and if there is more telling than showing, at least the story knows exactly what to say to preach to its choir.The question we’re left with, and cannot answer, is whether, for anyone without the benefit of pre-established resonance – that is, readers over 35 or those with a taste in hunting down back issues – the comic comes off as immediately emotionally effective or unearned sentimentality.

The contrast with Nightwing is a key parallel. For all that both books focus on the past, Nightwing feels innately forward looking. A character prone to change evolves to his next incarnation, taking much with him. Titans feels like a creature of its history: there is fondness in the recollection, but it only serves to establish that you can’t cross the same river twice.