What Did We Really Expect From DC's Brightest Day?

If you recently read my article about the worst comic books ever, you might have noticed most of them were complaining about immature depictions of sex and violence. A number of comic fans share my sentiments that murder and childish depictions of sex do not equal mature (in fact, many even more so) and were heartened to see that DC Comics follow up to Blackest Night would, appropriately, be Brightest Day.

Much like with Marvel's Age of Heroes, the assumption was that it would usher in a new age of goodwill and family friendly comics. Once people started reading the new issues of Brightest Day, what we got were two issues in a row of pretty blatant, senseless murder.

Suffice to say, I was put off. The sequence above, of a mother murdering her family, is both graphic and extremely unpleasant. It felt gratuitous and, more than anything, I just plain felt uncomfortable. But it also got me thinking: why exactly did I think that Brightest Day would be such a joy fest?

After all, DC never promised it would be uplifting or an end to violence. The only thing they really flat out told us was that it was going to end the cycle of constant death and resurrection that have been a near weekly occurrence in the pages of DC's books. No word on changing the status quo on violence.

And really, it is my own fault. Blackest Night was one of the goriest, most violent mainstream books to hit the shelves. The villains were constantly ripping vital organs out of characters big and small. To use the most violent book in the world to lead into a kinder, gentler era of all-age fun wouldn't just be stupid, it would be potentially damaging.

How would DC sell their continuity to the supposedly family friendly readership of their new, cuddly title? "Oh, yes, this horror show of a comic brought about the return of Silver Age wackiness. No, no, no, you should really read up on how the Hawks got their hearts ripped out so you can understand what's going on here."

In the end, the only people trying to fool us in regards to Brightest Day's content is ourselves. I've made my peace with DC not being as sweet-natured as I'd like. There are plenty of books where violence is handled tastefully and sex isn't presented as a juvenile fantasy. And if I'm really hard up for cuteness, there's always Tiny Titans.

But I won't make a mistake of assuming anything about an entire series based on the title again any time soon.

Death and the DC Universe

With the Black Lanterns running rampant as part of the Blackest Night summer event, the DC Universe is showcasing one of their largest rosters of B-List characters: the deceased ones. Fans may joke about characters dying and being resurrected before the end of the issue, but it wasn't until the dead began to rise it became apparent just how short a lifespan heroes have in in DC comics.

In the first issue alone, more once-beloved characters are brought back to life than can be shown reasonably in the pages of the book, earning only brief mentions as the book focuses on those Geoff Johns has chosen to share with us thus far. A single splash page featuring all the deceased Green Lantern Corps members illustrates the mind-boggling losses this one small section of the DC Universe has experienced. Indeed, readers might have noticed a lot of deaths during the Sinistero Corps War, but now that they're all in one place, illustrated in all their gory detail does it become obvious how many recognizable characters were lost over just a single year.

Halfway through the issue, Hal Jordan shows the recently returned Flash, Barry Allen, just how many people have died since he himself departed the world of the living. It takes two pages just to show them all, and even then some are left for later in the issue to illustrate. The number of characters who have died and remained dead since Crisis on Infinite Earths continuity reboot is almost without measure.



The number of deaths in the past decade have been on the raise, as well. The disappointing Infinite Crisis featured Superboy Prime casually killing half of the Titan's reserve membership during a battle with Conner Kent (soon to be deceased himself). Major events in the DC Universe have become a house cleaning for unwanted characters (along with a few big boys to add some shock value to the events).

Marvel Comics is certainly the grittier of the two major publishers, featuring more real world cities, politics, and stories featuring social upheaval. In contrast, the DCU is a sunny place where heroes are venerated, the JSA has bake sales, and Superman is there to save the day. Why, then, are DC events a slaughter house while Marvel's most recent event brought more people back to life than it killed?

Perhaps it is just because of that dichotomy: Marvel has nothing to prove because their real world is slightly more plausible. Comic book readers skew older than they did twenty-five years ago and they expect more realistic and mature stories. In a world where Ma Hunkel can regularly put on a stove pot to fight local street toughs, a war without a major deathcount might not seem realistic.

These frequent deaths lead to both fan excitement and fan frustration. Frequent "shock" deaths or the casual killing of scores of characters can leave those more interested in characters than books bitter. As someone who likes Batman's side-cast (Nightwing, Catwoman, Spoiler, Jim Gordon and the rest) more than the man himself, I'm always terrified of who will end up being the next sacrificial lamb on the altar of entertainment. As Stan Lee famously said, "every character is someone's favorite."

In spite of my own annoyance and fear for my favorite characters, the fact is the less "real" DC Universe has the right of it - in their line of work, superheroes should be dying left and right. They fight the worst evil in the world daily and it should be no shock when someone dies. And let there be no mistakes - randomly killing off characters is more realistic than letting then continue to live just because they have a fanbase. Life is short, cruel and often unfair and deaths are rarely heroic or timed just right to finish off all the "story arcs" left on the white board. All of us are more likely to be popped open by Superboy than to have a perfect moment with our lover before taking down twenty thousand space aliens with us.

Simply put, DC manages to be cynical and realistic at the same time. Through some occasionally cheap writing tactics and an eye towards keeping the stakes high the easy way, they've managed to hit on the reality of life. We will all die and we will all lose the people we love. And it will rarely happen when we expect it and certainly can't be avoided just because we love them.