Every week on “Sunday Page” an author has to choose a single page from a comic book. It could be for sentimental reasons o for a particular technical achievement. The conversation could lose itself in the open water of the comic book world but it will always start with the questione: «If you had to choose a page from a comic book you love, what would you choose and why?»
This Sunday we talk with Phillip Kennedy Johnson, author of Last Sons of America, a comic book described as «Elmore Leonard directing Children of Men». Sergeant, teacher and musician, he was nominated for a Eisner Award for his work on Adventure Time.
Choosing one page from one comic is an impossible decision, and I’m too embarrassed to admit how much time it took me. It obviously needs great art and great writing, but I also wanted great panel layout, and especially for it to have personal significance.
Here it is: the PAGE OF PAGES. It’s from The Dark Knight Returns, a book that is CONSTANTLY discussed and referred to in comics circles.
It matters to me personally for a lot of reasons. Some of my earliest memories of reading unassisted are of Batman comics. I admittedly read fewer superhero comics than other kinds these days, but the concept of the un-powered superhero who makes himself Superman’s equal through intelligence, discipline, preparation, and sheer force of will still makes me feel something.
And if you accept a story in which a person like that can exist, Frank Miller’s version makes the most sense. Frank Miller’s Batman is one scary, intense motherfucker. The Batman of Year One, All-Star Batman and Robin, and The Dark Knight Returns is a man you could totally see spending his formative years in Europe, Asia and god-knows-where studying with the world’s foremost spies, assassins, fighters, stunt drivers and detectives. Frank Miller’s Batman is crazy, as he should be.
This is the best page of the book because it shows one of the most important moments in Bruce Wayne’s life–one that foreshadows several other key moments–and because it has one of the most interesting panel layouts of the book. Not a lot of books pull off 11-panel pages so eloquently, including THIS book… Miller utilizes the grid layout really often, often with very high panel counts on each page, and although he conveys a HUGE amount of information this way, you’d be hard-pressed to find a page that’s as interesting to look at as this one. Here, you have two unusually tall and narrow panels showing how far Bruce has fallen, four smaller panels showing him trying to fight off the bats, four panels that are smaller still, focusing on his face, and finally, a larger panel showing us what Bruce sees. I love that as the panels get smaller, they get closer and closer on Bruce, finally giving us his perspective, showing us what he sees: The bat that eventually defines him, almost invisible in the darkness.
After the second long and narrow panel the following panel to have to read is up on the right corner and the eye have to really climb the page, after the big fall of bruce, in order to read. And this puts the reader in Bruce’s shoes, once again. I just think it’s a really ironic and clever composition.
And the lettering adds so much on this page. The bats’ sound effects illustrate how far Bruce is falling… The screeching starts out way below him, and when he hits the ground it’s way above him, closing in on him. Then in the smaller panels, the screeching envelops Bruce completely and functions as a background to draw the bats against. And that last panel, big and dark, after steadily making the panels smaller and smaller as it pulls in closer and closer to Bruce… it’s just perfect.