Doomsday Clock #7, or, That Sinking Feeling

doomsdayclock7

“Chaaaaaaapstick…”

At long last, on the outset of the back half of Geoff Johns and Gary Frank’s Doomsday Clock, Doctor Manhattan has been revealed, as has the site of his intrusion into the DC Universe. In Doomsday Clock #7 we learn that in 1950, Manhattan moves a magical green lantern six inches, causing the death of the otherwise would-be original, mystical Green Lantern, Alan Scott and creating untold temporal ripples (a.k.a. The New 52) from there on out, to include some mysterious involvement with actor Carver Coleman.

The long awaited arrival of Doctor Manhattan did not disappoint, but I found the most fascinating aspect of Doomsday Clock #7 to be the exploration of Manhattan’s influence on the DCU (and thus the metatextual influence of Watchmen on DC Comics), through the juxtaposition of his effects on Batman and Superman. It’s an exploration that proves fascinating for Doomsday Clock, and conjures thematic tendrils between this DC Comics event and other recent and concurrent DC Comics events, namely Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s Dark Nights: Metal and Tom King and Clay Mann’s Heroes in Crisis.

Throughout Doomsday Clock #7 we’re barraged by news footage from across the globe. Metahumans breaching international borders. Metahumans engaged in political espionage. Metahumans being called to task for the political implications of the actions of their peers. The real world, our world, has come to roost in the DCU as we’re given examples of superpowers being used not in the fantastic and colorful ways we might expect in a comic book, but in the calculating and cynical ways they might be applied here and now. Much like the multiverse being weighed down and sinking into the dark multiverse in Metal, here we’re shown what should be a resplendent comic book world sinking down to our level, as if Manhattan’s passage from his world to this one left a hole for the grit and grime of Watchmen to seep through and weigh down the fantastic, the spectacular, the astonishing.

Our heroes are being forced to grapple with issues not of their world, but of ours, not unlike the basis for the recently debuted Heroes in Crisis, in which the heroes of the DCU come face to face with the psychological effects a decades-long war on crime and villain might have on an individual.

As eluded to in previous issues, with the riots in Gotham and the familiar effigies burned in protest of the Supermen Theory, Batman is perhaps the most susceptible to Manhattan’s presence, just as the character within literature is one of the most susceptible to gritty aesthetics. It’s no coincidence that the first title released in DC’s new “mature-reader” line, Black Label, is a Batman book. Colorful as his 60s exploits may be, few characters can be counted on to slip into darkness and despair quite as reliably as Batman, and within his own universe he proves no different. As the ever-perceptive Ozymandias asserts, Batman is “the cornerstone of the ever-growing problem your world is being swallowed up by.”

Inversely, as that aforementioned barrage of news reports illustrates, Superman fares far better against Manhattan’s influence. Despite an increasingly-insular world closing its borders he still crosses them freely, his selfless actions speaking for themselves. He is globally trusted, that “S” still meaning something beyond any one flag. Where Batman is a character who almost insists on being dragged into the muck and filth of crime-infested allies, Superman is one who resists it without effort, simply by virtue of being a colorful boy scout. But, as Doctor Manhattan explains, “I saw a vision of the most hopeful among them. Heading toward me. Now hopeless.”

It appears there will come a time in the near future where even Superman falls to the imposing dread, fear and cynicism Manhattan and his source material represent.

Doomsday Clock #7 sets up the end game. A knock-down-drag-out brawl between an omnipotent infection that has influenced the DCU and DC Comics for decades and the original, septuagenarian Man of Tomorrow. And if Manhattan’s visions, or lack thereof, of the future are any indication, it will be a bout with wide-reaching effects on the DCU.

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Communication Skills for Multiversal Salvation, or, Dark Nights: Metal

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(C) The Devil

Dark Nights: Metal is at once a Batman story and a Justice League story, a mystery and an adventure, a fragile, intimate drama and a sprawling, cosmic epic, and the mission of writer Scott Snyder and artist Greg Capullo’s latest collaboration (with Jonathan Glapion on inks and FCO Plascencia on colors) seems to be bridging those very sorts of fictional polarities. Metal is a story that posits that perhaps detectives and swashbucklers are one and the same, that perhaps the barrier distinguishing cosmic infinity from the sprawling expanses of any single individual’s imagination is far thinner than we might think.

Metal concerns the invasion of the DC Universe by the Dark Multiverse, a realm of raw imagination, comprised of the dreams and nightmares that on the rarest of occasions are forged into existence within the living, breathing DCU proper. Essentially, the world of Batman and the Justice League is an ark of existence, of reality, adrift on an unimaginably vast sea of could-have-been and should-never-be. Someone or something has breached the hull of that ark, which is now taking on sick water in the form of nightmare Batmen conjured from Bruce Wayne’s worst fears and insecurities. What follows is a desperate attempt to plug the leak in the DCU before the entire existing multiverse sinks into the Dark Multiverse.

It’s a mystery and an adventure, at once terrifying and exciting, a sentiment captured in the narrative’s dual focus on Batman the Detective and Carter Hall, the missing adventurer Hawkman.

Questions and clues abound: why is a covert ops team surveilling Batman? Why are strange metal artifacts around the globe reacting strangely to some unknown force? What secretes lie within the secret journal of Carter Hall?

Spectacle and bombast abound: the Justice League battles interlocking mechs in an alien gladiatorial arena. A demonic Bat-God clings to the apex of a dizzying spire that punctures a stormy sky, flanked by dual Joker-dragons.

And yet, whether it’s an army of villainous Justice League doppelgangers or a furrow in Wonder Woman’s brow as she prepares for battle, Capullo, Glapion and Plascencia never miss a beat, the attention afforded both to the smallest detail and the loudest spectacle alike indicative of Metal’s continued interplay between the intimate and the immense, the mysterious and the adventurous.

But the disparity between those two seeming opposites never feels jarring or disorienting, as Metal is, at its heart, largely concerned with that which unites them: communication.

Sound is a fascinating and prominent motif throughout DN:M, be it battle cries, devilish bellows, power chords, or good old-fashioned banging two pieces of metal together. Again and again importance is placed on sound, the difference between the life and death of all existence hanging on one character’s willingness or ability to create it and another’s ability to hear and comprehend it. It’s telling then that just before it hits the fan in the story’s opening issues, Batman refuses to communicate with his peers. His failure to communicate, his decision to withhold information, reaps dire consequences and the rest of this epic is largely concerned with not only discovery in the face of the unknown malevolence brought forth, but the communication of those discoveries with others.

Across the galaxy, in the depths of the sea and deep within the distorted bowels of the Dark Multiverse itself, the Justice League find themselves investigating any thread that might lead them to a plug for that leak in the ol’ aforementioned reality ark that is their entire known multiverse, but separated as they are those answers mean nothing without the willingness and ability to communicate that information, to share it, to come to a common understanding through detection and adventure.

For all its mystery and all its spectacle, Dark Nights: Metal ultimately revolves around communication, that which links the dreams and nightmares of our minds with the vastness of the universe. It’s a story about coming together, about living and experiencing and sharing those experiences to the betterment of all involved.

It is one hell of a comic book.