The term “graphic novel” has been taken over by the pretentious and usually used to refer to hipper-than-thou underground comics. But since this is the year when, through the work of Heath Ledger and Christopher Nolan, the Joker went highbrow, it’s only fitting that the best original graphic novel I read this year was Brian Azzarello and Lee Bermejo’s Joker.
It’s not a sequel to the movie or a spinoff, but it perfectly captured the anarchic, frightening joy of Ledger’s performance. As Azzarello noted at this summer’s Wizard World Chicago, to actually get into the Joker’s head would ruin the character. He must remain utterly without guiding principles and motives to be truly frightening. This Joker isn’t the embodiment of evil, he’s the embodiment of lack of control.
Bermejo’s Joker looks like Ledger, but not in a distracting photo-realistic way. His face, especially the scars, is so textured you expect to feel it when you touch the page. In the background run familiar characters from the Batman mythos, even Batman himself, a murderously sexy Harley Quinn and a twisted new Riddler that we should be begging to see in the next Nolan Bat-flick.
But the star of the book is Jonny Frost, a guy just dumb enough, just mean enough to think he can run with the Joker. Jonny Frost, dressed all in white, a small-time hood, is also just nervous enough for the reader to sympathize with him, but no matter how many steps he takes to reach the Joker’s level, he’ll never really get there.
Ultimately, the only one who understands the Joker is Batman, and vice versa.