Damian Wayne has changed the Bat-family irrevocably for the worse

Every superhero comic book character, even the most obscure ones, is someone’s favorite. There are no boring or bad characters, just characters who haven’t found the right story for you yet.

So far, if your favorite comic book character is Damian Wayne, the son of Batman, know that I respect you and I think it’s great that you love him. You have to understand that there is no joy in my heart when I say this. I beg you, stop reading now.

I think Damian Wayne made a mistake.

“Who is Damian Wayne?” is something you might be wondering if you only watched this film out of a love of messy drama. In that case, kudos.

Once upon a time in 1987 there was a writer Mike W. Barr and artist Jerry Bingham created a Batman story in which Bruce Wayne and Talia Head, daughter of immortal disaster eugenicist Ra’s al Ghul, had a baby. The story was declared non-canonical in Zero hour (a minor potato crisis that only the most vigilant DC fans remember), but on a long enough timescale, nothing goes unnoticed – especially when Grant Morrison was given the keys to Batman 30 years later.

To say that Morrison is a writer with a penchant for crafting major plot points out of obscure comic book references is a (humorous) understatement. Working with artist Andy Kubert, Morrison reintroduced this child of Batman and grandchild of Ra’s al Ghul – whom Talia had kept secret from Bruce until the boy was 10 – as Damian Wayne. Under Morrison’s pen, Damian replaced Tim Drake as the youngest Robin, a title he carries to this day.

On the page, Damian has assumed a reliable identity. He was raised to be a hitman and struggles with rule #1 of being an ally to Batman: Don’t kill, period. He’s been taught to idolize both his mass-murdering grandfather and his heroic father, and from story to story he struggles to untangle those conflicting philosophies. He’s torn between love and respect for his mother and the fact that she’s made various and sundry supervillain-ass moves to either replace him in her affections (cloning him) or force him to kill Batman (replacing his spine with a mind-control spine). He’s also best friends with Superman’s kid, which is adorable.

All in all, Damian has become a conflicted, grumpy, new-teenager who is both seeking and rejecting, all wrapped up in a superhero jacket. And if the writers and artists can remember to write and draw him that way, he’s also a great example of visible racial diversity in Gotham’s mythology. I wouldn’t argue with anyone who finds that appealing. One of the easiest ways to give me a new obsession is to show me a child character who was raised as a weapon and is desperately trying to rise above that role. I Love that shit.

The only complaint I can make about Damian’s character in itself is that he illustrates a frustrating double standard that is really a complaint about sexism in fandom and society in general. That is, if Damian were a female character instead of a male character – if Damienne Wayne were the secret goth daughter of Batman and granddaughter of Ra’s al Ghul, who had world-class killing skills from the start and was allowed to live in Wayne Manor and was immediately accepted as Robin by pretty much every other Batman character (whom she would treat with universal sneering disdain) even though she’d just killed a man – she’d get a slap in the face with the “Maria Sue“label so hard she wouldn’t have survived Flashpoint.

My real issue with Damian Wayne isn’t with his character, but with his knock-on effects in Batman stories. By the mere fact that he’s Batman’s only biological son, Damian Wayne’s existence has necessarily led to the decline of Batman’s relationships with his foster children. Since Morrison and Kubert dropped a close blood relative into Batman’s family of orphans and friends, countless stories have been written that place Damian as the centerpiece of Bruce’s heart, and his presumed successor as Batman.

To give a telling example, one of the first Batman stories after Morrison’s tenure (after Damian’s death by a clone his mother had created to kill him; normal comics stories) was an entire story arc where Batman traveled the world looking for a way to resurrect Damian and nearly beat his killer to death. All this as if Jason Todd, the Robin famous for killing, was doing that Batman not resurrect or mortally avenge wasn’t, you know, right there. There was a time when the question of who Robin was best suited to become Batman after Bruce was debatable, but Damian has since become the default Batman of the future. From Morrison’s work in flashforward stories to the Wonder Woman backups, and even a whole animated filmwriters have treated Damian’s claim to the throne as if it were a royal dynasty.

Image: Prime Video

Some of these choices, such as the inclusion of Damian as Robin of the Harley Quinn cartoon, were certainly made for the convenience of his placement as the youngest and current Robin, or for the relative simplicity of “Batman’s son” compared to “Batman’s adopted orphan circus acrobat”, or for the sheer comedy of Robin a little kitten who thinks of nothing but murder all day longBut that doesn’t take away from the message of positioning Damian as the obvious heir to Batman’s legacy, or the one Robin feels most strongly about. Of course it’s Damian. He’s Batman’s Real son.

And that message makes me angry – not just because it diminishes the character of my favorite superhero, but because the Batman comics invented the non-family superhero unit in the first place.

Since Robin’s debut in 1940, forging strong relationships beyond biological ties has been a huge part of the appeal of superhero stories. Despite starting the whole sidekick/mentor trope, Batman multimedia has focused on his loner status, and Batman’s extended found family, far beyond Robin, has been a primary element of Gotham City lore for decades following the 1980s.

Four to five Robins, one to three Batgirls, a whole host of on-and-off lover villains like Talia and Catwoman; various secondary vigilantes like the Huntress, Azrael, the Question or Batwoman, whose presence was tolerated, welcomed or infuriated depending on the circumstances. And above all, Alfred Pennyworth; with a dry wit, a kind word and stern disapproval when warranted.

The knock-on effect of Damian’s existence is that he’s become Batman’s most important son in a myriad of subtle ways. And the knock-on effect of that, among creators who see the problem this creates for Bruce Wayne’s moral character, is that all of his relationships with his other children have to become more conventional and less fraught.

The general decline in Batman-sidekick interpersonal drama in comics that began with Morrison’s tenure has only exacerbated the tidiness of current Bat-family relationships—if there’s less time to spend on character complexities, things have to be less complex. When Damian calls Batman “dad,” other orphaned Bat-family kids have to implicitly understand that they’re Batman’s kids too, not just his mentees. Dick Grayson’s chafing under Batman’s shadow is resolved. If part of Damian’s whole deal is wrestling with the kill rule, it’s hypocritical of Batman to use that against Jason Todd. Tim Drake’s fear that his secret life and secret found family will drive a wedge between him and his widowed father? Don’t worry; Tim’s just a member of the Bat-fam now.

Don’t get me wrong. I venture into softer interpretations such as Wayne Family Adventures from time to time. But for truly compelling superhero drama, the Batfamily needs messiness. Any X-Men comic book fan will tell you that the interpersonal drama is half, if not most, of the appeal. Where they had Charles Xavier and Magneto’s messy feuds, Batman fans had Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, who would never verbally admit the depth of their bond but would demonstrate it again and again in heart-pounding action.

Bat-family drama is at its best when it’s a messy, gothic tangle of towering respect undermined by legitimate resentment. Batgirl asks, “What are you doing here?” and Nightwing responds with dark, far-too-easy sarcasm, “Following a pattern of obsessive behavior instilled in me at a young age.” It’s the Robins who agree that they’ve truly had it with Batman’s emotional repression. this time, right before they spit in a villain’s face that they’ve been “trained by the best.” A group of people with enormous emotional baggage who still share a loyalty to each other that suffices to override everything.

But Susana, isn’t Batman’s love for Damian more than for the rest of the Robins exactly the kind of “mess” you’re talking about?— Nonononono, I’m going to interrupt you right here. Favoring your biological children over your foster children is not a recognizable character flaw. It’s primal, primo villain shitI don’t hate Damian Wayne, but that’s mostly what I hate about Damian Wayne.

It’s not Damian’s fault that so many of his stories turn Batman into a villain. The real tragedy is how the rest of the canon had to bend over backwards to make Batman a hero again.