Although the first arc of Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely's new series Batman and Robin seems to have been carefully engineered to welcome new readers who weren't very taken to the characters' dark and brooding nature, there may be some benefits in explaining what is happening with Bruce Wayne and the greater DC universe. Morrison, a renowned Scottish writer who made his big break from 2000 A.D. to chronicling the adventures of a minor DC superhero named Animal Man, has since produced epochal runs on superhero properties such as the JLA, the X-Men, and the Doom Patrol, in addition to producing creator-owned work such as The Invisibles and The Filth. Wikipedia writes that he is "best-known for his nonlinear narratives and counter-cultural leanings," which of course is simplifying a great deal, but at least part of his overarching goal as an artist is, I believe, to invest a postmodern self-awareness into otherwise staid comic book conventions, which can manifest itself obliquely (rewriting the Joker's timeline so that he commits harmless and silly crimes during the years parallel to the era of Comic Code editorial wrangling) or obviously (Animal Man turning his eyes towards the fourth wall, yelling "I can see you!"). This often results in the sort of "splintered narratives" that are meant to demonstrate what it might be like to be a person whose life story is consistently being written and rewritten. At the same time, though, Morrison is better than anyone in writing relatively straightforward superhero comics, particularly in balancing epic action sequences with quieter character moments. And he isn't the type of glib postmodernist who holds contempt for his characters--in fact, he seems to go to extreme means to sympathize with the plight of his creations, as if the very act of knowing one exists on ink and paper is inherently sort of sad.

A few years ago, Morrison took over writing Batman, injecting the title with the sort of conceptual gambits that go far beyond even the most well-crafted standard 24-page actioner. Morrison did a lot of stuff to Batman over this time, and I will try to summarize the important parts in as clear a language as I can manage:

-Following a series of cataclysmic events in which continuity was retooled to reflect superficial editorial mandate, Batman decides to take a year off to find himself off in the Himalayas somewhere, taking along Nightwing and Robin, and he finally returns to Gotham having achieved some sort of inner peace that was absent before.

-Bruce Wayne, seemingly now well-adjusted, finds out that he has a secret ten-year old son named Damian, conceived during a dalliance with Talia Al'Ghul. Damian, who has been trained since birth to be an assassin, is a petulant and spoiled child who demands the right to be Robin.

-It is revealed at some point that Batman once underwent several days in a sensory deprivation chamber, monitored by a certain Dr. Hurt, in order to mentally prepare himself for a similar attack. It is suggested that what happened during those few days, in addition to all the psychoactive drugs he experimented with, may have unbalanced Bruce Wayne more than he cares to admit.

-Later, Batman finds that he is a target not only of deadly copycat Batmans but of an organization known as The Black Glove, an evil Illuminati-type organization whose rich and powerful members like to play games with human lives, particulary those they find to be virtuous and pure. The Black Glove turns out to be led by the same Dr. Hurt, who now looks suspiciously like Batman's father Thomas Wayne. Apparently, Hurt set a psychic trigger that would destroy Bruce's personality when a certain word was uttered.

-The trigger is set. Bruce Wayne's psyche is splinter, and he wanders around homeless, while the batcave is destroyed, Alfred is nearly beaten to death, and Robin and Nightwing are on the run from other dangerous bad guys. Little does anyone know that even now Batman has a plan: a failsafe Batman, the "Batman of Zur-En-Arhh," to act as a substitute personality. This Batman wears a garish yellow and pink ensemble, and is accompanied by a fifth-dimensional imp, Bat-Mite.

-Batman breaks into Arkham, battles the Black Glove, gets buried alive, and escapes. Dr. Hurt tries to escape, before suggesting that he is Thomas Wayne, and in fact, he might even be Satan (the Satan that popped up in the early 90s as young Bruce's callous schoolteacher). Batman follows him, and his helicopter explodes, but both of them make it out alive.

-A few hours later, in Final Crisis, Batman is performing an autopsy on Orion, a New God who was apparently shot in the head with a special God-killing bullet (the odd thing being that supposedly New Gods can't die). What Batman doesn't know is that Darkseid and his minions have been inhabiting the bodies of various DC characters and are preparing to enslave Earth and turn it into a new Apokolips. Batman doesn't realize this until it is too late, and he is captured by Granny Goodness masquerading as Alpha Lantern Kraken.

-Batman is kept alive in the Command D Bunker and is fed with false memories in order so that an army of unbeatable Batman clones can be created. However, Batman manages to fight back against these memories and escapes his death trap, proving that his real superpower is an overwhelming threshold for emotional pain. Note that Batman still has the bullet that killed Orion.

-Batman confronts Darkseid, who by now has taken over the earth by subjecting its citizens to the Anti-Life Equation. It turns out that Darkseid killed Orion by shooting a bullet backwards through time; Batman, realizing that such a bullet will probably kill a fellow God like Darkseid, shoots him in the chest. At this same time, Darkseid fires his omega beams and incinerates Batman, leaving a charred corpse behind: Batman is dead.

-Except it turns out that he is probably not dead, but displaced in time. Still, everyone thinks he's dead.

-Crime in Gotham without Batman runs rampant. The three Robins, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake, all fight over the right to be Batman. Dick Grayson eventually wins. Damian becomes the new Batman. That's all you need to know.

Turns out that wasn't easy to explain at all, and I have already left out broad swaths of material concerning the Joker, Jezebel Jet, and the Club of Heroes, among others. They are less relevant at this juncture. What you need to know now is that the first Robin is now Batman, and Bruce Wayne's loathsome brat of a son is now Robin.

The first issue of Batman and Robin does what many great opening action sequences do: it sets up the sort of relationship we should expect from the two heroes, acts as its own self-contained action sequence, and it hints and deeper and more sinister plot happenings. Batman and Robin, cruising in a new floating Batmobile, intercept a brand-new villain named Mr. Toad (Morrison following in the long tradition of literary-themed Bat villains), carrying a suspicious box of dominoes. In their first scene together, a rapport is established: Damian is obnoxious and rude to Dick ("You can have my respect if you earn it, is all I'm saying") while Dick is in turn infinitely patient and lackadaisical ("I'm sorry I doubted you, Damian"). It's definitely a reversal of the standard archetype.

Morrison has always been a master of micro-dialogue employed to maximum effect, eschewing long, tortured soliquys when a simple sentence will do. We see already that Damian is capable of some growth and decency, and obviously as a ten-year old boy we know he may affect a more mature outlook in the future. Already, Dick's graciousness is rubbing off slightly, as he tells Alfred "thank you," for bringing him sandwiches, but, catching himself, ends their conversation with a terse "that will be all, Pennyworth." Dick Grayson, meanwhile, is shown to be clearly apprehensive over taking the Batman mantle (particularly in that he has to wear a cape again), but he doesn't linger over his apprehension for too long, as he knows he has more important things to consider. There's a brilliant scene in the second issue where Alfred plays to Grayson's past as a trapeze artist, and suggests considering undertaking the role of Batman as a performance piece. Morrison establishes well what is and will be a consistent difference between the two Batmen: Dick's tortured performance as Batman is, in fact, a performance.

The antagonist of these first three issues is Professor Pyg, an entirely new character who is already close to being my favorite Batman villain. Pyg, who enlists a bevy of circus-related henchmen to carry out some sort of chemical attack against the city, is revealed in issue 3 to be in a crazy class by himself. Though his methods of mutilating his victims and subjecting them to mind control seem awful enough, he goes beyond standard Arkham fruitcake territory during a bizarre scene in which Pyg narrates his mission to a captured Damian while cavorting to a disco tune, ripping off his blood-covered shirt, crying "I am an artist!", snorting, and admitting "I want to be sick in front of the whole world." Pyg may end up going even further than the Joker in establishing an erratic, disturbing persona in that there seems to be a distinct and implied component of sexual trauma in addition to his fondness for mutilation and eath.  Then there's the fact that Professor Pyg simply doesn't look good: even the Penguin and Two-Face have their own chic styles, but Pyg is just an overweight guy with a pig mask and a bloody apron. The more you think about him, the more terrifying he really becomes.

All of this is as straightforward as Morrison has ever been, while the more phantasmagoric strain of Morrison's themes ("counter-cultural leanings" and all that) is brought to absurd technicolor by Frank Quitely, who has a highly detailed, grotesque style that emphasizes the strangeness of the writing. To put it bluntly, there's seemingly no better choice to illustrate a group called "The Circus of Strange." Quitely does some things here that have been rarely done in comic books: bringing back sound effects, for one, but doing so in a way that integrates the effects into the action, so we get images like a car flying into Gotham harbor accompanied by a "SPLASH" sound effect that is fromed by the water itself. Quitely is certainly a very different artist than the ones who traffic in absurdly proportioned muscles, but his style here isn't really what I'd call realistic. Everyone looks slightly ugly, the villains look even more grotesque and sinister, and it all suggests that these people are capable of inhabiting the same universe. This is in addition to Quitely's greatest strength, which I think is in his fluid storytelling ability and his novel use of panel space, such as in the above-mentioned example of Professor Pyg's monologue.

I haven't even taken the time to point out how impressive Morrison maps out these story points in advance, how at the very end we return to a thread that was left hanging more than a year ago, which only amplifies the satisfaction of reading Morrison's run as a whole. No doubt that Batman and Robin will continue to get better, and deeper, as the series continues. However, I can't think of the last time I have been so impressed and fulfilled by a three-issue storyline, especially in this age of decompressed and seemingly endless character arcs. I've enjoyed Morrison's previous Batman work, but this may turn out to be on a whole different level in terms of generating its own compelling mythology. It certainly is what it aspires to be, which is extremely intelligent pop art, but it may go even further, and establish the tone by which all Batman writers may follow for the next several decades.