It would be hard to conceive of an image that could more effectively convey the ending of an era than the one that graces the cover of Batman #217. Illustrated by Neal Adams, who would soon become the most influential Batman artist of the 1970s, it shows the Caped Crusader exiting the Batcave and instructing his trusted butler Alfred to close it up forever.
What must readers of the time have thought when they espied this cover, mixed in among the other comics on the wire rack at their local drugstore? The Batcave had, after all, made its first appearance all the way back in Detective Comics #83 (1944) and had since then become an indispensable part of Batman’s mythos. How could he leave it behind? What on earth was DC up to?
Batman #217, titled “One Bullet Too Many,” is the issue that sets the stage for the new era of The Dark Knight and makes it clear in no uncertain terms that the campy character of the 1960s was gone forever. As the story opens, we find that Dick is headed off to college, and Bruce and Alfred are pretty unabashedly broken up about it. Dick tries to play it off as if it’s not a big deal, but as soon as he’s in the back of the taxi that will whisk him away to the airport, a tear rolls down his cheek.
His ward gone, Bruce, standing at the base of the stairs in the foyer of his palatial digs, declares that everything is going to be different now and that Wayne Manor will no longer serve their purposes. Alfred, who, as Batman’s assistant, has proven invaluable too many times to count, agrees that it’s “too big” for just the two of them. With this, Bruce announces that both he and his alter ego will be moving elsewhere. He and Alfred take one last look at the Batcave and then climb into Bruce's sports car and head for the city. (The actual egress is far less dramatic than the cover would lead us to believe.)
Their new home turns out to be the penthouse of the Wayne Foundation, which, Alfred admits, provides “better bachelor accommodations.” It also puts Batman right in the heart of Gotham, where he can “dig [criminals] out where they live and fatten on the innocent.” Bruce realizes that much of modern crime is less overt, often taking place behind closed doors and perpetrated by men under the guise of respectability. Two-bit hoods’ breaking into jewelry stores is still a concern, of course, but corrupt businessmen and underhanded politicians, who have the potential to do greater harm to the public, are now on Batman’s radar, as well.
It’s not at all surprising, from a narrative point of view, that Dick would eventually grow up and move out, and, in fact, Bruce remarks that he always knew the day would come. But when considered in context, Dick’s separation from his guardian was a necessary plot device. If Batman were to be returned to his darker roots, as the writers intended, Robin had to be taken out of the picture. It gave both Bruce and Batman room to breathe, to spread their wings, if you will, not to mention the fact that Robin’s colorful attire would be decidedly out of place in the shadowy world into which Batman was about to journey.
Robin was originally introduced because the writers grew tired of Batman’s always talking to himself, but, unfortunately, his inclusion succeeded in softening Batman’s character. Despite the fact that both men suffered the tragic loss of their parents at a young age and chose to become crime fighters as a result, the Dynamic Duo became a unmistakably lighthearted team, and by the mid-1940s, Batman’s “creature of the night” persona was all but forgotten. No one was afraid of him anymore, not even the criminal element. Batman was designed to be the opposite of Superman, not a non-super-powered version of him with a belt full of wacky gadgets.
It is blindingly obvious that the main objective of Batman #217 was to establish Batman’s new idiom. In fact, it’s rather meta-fictional. As Bruce explains to Alfred how everything is going to change, he is actually talking directly to the reader, indicating the flaws in the previous approach to the character and outlining the comic’s new direction. Rather clever, to my way of thinking. Well played, DC.
Once all of this is established, Batman embarks on his first case, an investigation into the murder of a local doctor. It’s a fairly forgettable story, though not a poor one. The issue ends with a man forcing his way into Bruce’s office and pulling a gun on him, a plot thread that continues in Detective #394, but that doesn’t concern us. Without even reading the issue, as I haven’t, we know that he survives. He’s the <expletive deleted> Batman, after all.
What does concern us is the issue that comes after that, Detective #395.
The story, “The Secret of the Waiting Graves,” is, admittedly, a fairly unremarkable one, which seems to have been inspired by DC’s line of recently revived “mystery” titles (House of Mystery, House of Secrets, et al.). It takes place, strangely enough, in Mexico, and concerns a husband and wife, the Muertos (what a giveaway, eh?), who have unlocked the secret to immortality. Bruce is there because he was invited, along with “every social butterfly in the Western Hemisphere.” There are, not surprisingly, dirty dealings afoot, and Batman gets involved in short order. As the purpose behind the lavish “shindig” is revealed, the true evil is laid bare, and Batman takes strides to vanquish it.
Adams stated in an interview featured in The Batcave Companion (Twomorrows Publishing) that it’s “not even a Batman story. It’s a horror story, a surreal story.” Despite this, it does contain many of the elements that would define the Dark Knight’s Bronze-Age adventures. It takes places at night, for one, and also features a “sterner” Batman (this is not a Caped Crusader who smiles) who accomplishes his brilliant detective work through reflection captured in the thought balloons and then unleashes his fighting prowess on unsuspecting villains.
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