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powerosewaterpuff · 3 years

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yo ,i remember a post about sort of reverse batfam , between jason and dick , can you do the headcanons about under the red hood please

yes yes yes yes yes and another yes to top it all off. i really really love the idea, and i love under the red hood in general so thank u so much for suggesting this :) like i spent all day brainstorming (probs shoulda been studying but shhhhh) diff headcanons so i’m pretty excited to write it out. also so the timeline with this is a little tight ig?? i really wanted to include tim as bruce’s new sidekick with dick in the middle of his fallout with bruce but again a lil too tight so we’re just gonna have rebellious dick for now and i also haven’t watched death in the family so i’m basing this purely off of under the red hood :) (oh and fuck dick’s hair in the movie oh my god i’m ignoring that it even exists i’m so sorry)

dick is 17 on the cusp of hitting 18 and he’s so fucking sick of batman. every conversation of theirs was leading to a screaming match where each one tries to push their opinion as fact. it was getting messy and soul crushing at this point, and dick hated it. the rising action of it all was dick getting fired from robin, a role he hadn’t even been formally granted by batman yet he felt it in his power to strip him of it. he felt like a pawn in a chess game that gambled his identity and being off of the mind numbing mantra of be better. do better. faster. punch harder. follow orders. be better be better better. and dick was sick of it, so he shed the robin uniform. swallowing it like a bitter pill because he was forced to do so. but nightwing was giving him clarity as of late. the sheer rush, brilliance and exuberance of it all reminded him of when flying was a much simpler task.

however, dick had an annoyingly unwavering loyalty to protecting bruce’s (less batman then bruce. bruce was his father. batman was not. yet nowadays the man himself was forgetting who exactly was the secret identity and who the real person was.) safety and well-being, even if it meant risking another shouting round. so, once dick catches wind of batman’s whereabouts for the night, he decides to help him with Amazo etc., and dick cant help but realize how well they still mesh together when it comes to fighting. the talking part however, did not come naturally anymore. (it used to. it used to be so much easier)

now bruce, is attempting his best to keep dick out of the loop. he knows dick will furious. and dick’s temper is something not many can tame, but bruce would take the risk. he’d rather dick spit on his memory then be dead in his arms (just like jason was, blown to bits when he should’ve been in his room. safe. sleeping after studying for some test not fighting crime with him in the underbelly of Gotham city, or getting dragged along bruce’s self induced fight with the world.)

dick, of course, does not appreciate this and can very easily tell the bruce is trying to get him off the case. dick doesn’t appreciate that in the slightest, and it only makes him want to push more. to fight bruce on every detail and demand he be apart of this because that’s the only way he can get anywhere with him. it was fair to say, that the interrogation with the joker he had to force bruce into taking him too, wasn’t exactly pleasant. he watches, leaning back against the wall as batman has joker by the neck. some part of him hates himself for not being upset about this, like he’s failing his moral code in some way. but he ignores that half, and tries not to feel angry as bruce doesn’t choke joker out like the rat he is. dick wished, in the darkest parts of his mind, that he could burn joker alive, just to watch in vengeful satisfaction that the man who stole his brothers breath wither in pain. ( and watch that fucking laugh die out)

now, the confrontation goes quite similar. except dick is noticing these little things that resemble jason too much it be a coincidence. too much. he knows how jason fights, he’s sparred with him for years and used to spend countless nights in his room trying to emulate his older brothers swift and hard hitting movements in front of his mirror. he always wished he could hit as hard as jason, as dicks strength at the time was his inhuman flexiblity and professional acrobatic skills. now, when he and batman are against the red hood, fuck it doesn’t feel right to dick. it’s all too similar. it wasn’t even the bigger moves that caught his attention but the little moves in stance that screamed at him that it was his brother. he kept shutting the idea down, because if it was possible dick would have made it happen. he would’ve.

dick gets hurt in the aftermath, but bruce must be a fucking comedian if he thinks it’s going to stop him. they get into another argument, bruce talking him down to nothing and dick frustrated that bruce couldn’t see that he’s been doing this for too long to be lectured on it, and that bruce wasn’t atlas. he wasn’t responsible for the world being held up between his two hands. it simmers down to loud silence, like it always does and dick hobbles out. leaning slightly on alfred.

bruce’s hunch is eating him alive. devouring his soul and heart with a satisfying crunch, not sparing crumb. with the revelation that his son could be alive, and the Red Hood of all people, one of the first thoughts that run through his mind is that he could not tell dick. dick could never know, and will never know. it was a hushed promise, one kept inside his chest, locked like all of his unspoken words. it would crush dick, just like it was crushing bruce now. (or maybe it was because if bruce was on the fence about breaking his moral agenda, he knows that dick would hurdle over that fence. he hates that he knows this but he does. dick wears a bleeding heart on his sleeve for his family, especially for jason. this is the same boy that was set on killing zucco all those years ago before jason and him had stopped it.)

(jason’s tasting bitter green as he mulls over why the fuck dick was there. that little idiot was supposed to be at home. safe. not carrying out bruce’s destructive agenda of self proclaimed justice. he didn’t know whether to be mad at bruce or dick. because of course bruce encouraged this shit, eager to force another child soldier into the suit and send him out to die. but God, did it hurt that dick had taken bruce’s side over his even if he didn’t know it was jason. and that stung like a motherfucker. his little brother, whose fond memories were becoming hazed in a cloud of viridecent smoke, had picked bruce’s side. a little part of himself though, shy and hesitant, whispered that he had hurt dick. he had hurt his little brother and he couldn’t justify it no matter how vengeful he was. but he shoved that part aside, trying to ignore its desperate murmurs as they told him that every time he looked at nightwing or whatever the fuck his new name was, he saw his eight year old little brother smiling up at him).

dick knows that bruce thinks he’s covering his tracks well. he is but dick knows bruce, better then bruce thinks he does. so dick is slowly beginning to formulate a hunch of his own, as he spends countless nights rubbing his formerly injured leg and wondering if he really did everything he could’ve to save jason. if there was something he missed. it’s starting to gnaw away at him, until realization settles into his chest after snooping through bruce’s files. then, he’s dashing to get into uniform, giving a breathless and hasty apology to alfred. itsjasonitsjasonitsjasongogogorunrunrun

batman. red hood. bruce. jason. father. son. bruce cannot stomach the vigor in jason’s words and jason’s heart is giving out at the fact that his father won’t do this for him. to end that pathetic excuse of a fucking life, one that’s stolen from so many people, but it still wasn’t up to his moral standards limit. was jason not enough to warrant a sacrifice for the greater good. (was jason’s desperate need to feel safe of that walking nightmare not worthy to overtake any mission)

it happens in a rush. dick is swinging up to the building, the blood pumping through his ears drowning out the screams of his chest. the joker tackles batman as the timer tick tick tick’s away numbingly. suddenly, dick has kicked the joker off and has one hand over his neck while the other smothers itself over his mouth and nose. why didn’t he do this before? why didn’t he kill the thing before? it didn’t even deserve to be called human, so why would any moral standards apply to a human based code. if batman wanted to be the whole representer of pure justice, fine. he could do that. dick wasn’t though. he was going this kill piece of shit then never let go of jason as long as he lived.

suddenly, there’s a pull at the back of dick’s uniform and at the corner of his eye he catches sight of jason being pulled by bruce as well and he’s just about to call out for him when the next thing he knows a blast rockets through his ears and the world goes black.

jason was no where to be found. and bruce ends up having to shove dick into the batmobile before he lunged after the joker, after realizing jason was missing and that the joker was still alive and kicking. the argument that insues? isn’t pretty. in fact it’s their worst. dick had spun around and asked bruce, ‘who are you? batman or bruce? because im not talking to batman, i want to hear why bruce couldn’t do the one thing his son needed! i want to know why bruce thought it was going to be beneficial not to fucking tell me that my brother-Bruce, he’s my brother! that he was alive, because you thought I was gonna pull shit like this? look at that! the exact thing you tried to avoid happened, you know why? because you cannot trust me, and it blew up in your face!’

it goes on. and on. and on. there’s no resolution, or admittance to what happened. bruce simply shuts himself down, stating this wasn’t changing anything. there was a then and a now, one in which bruce harbours enough guilt to crush his shoulders.

there’s a stony resolution in dick’s voice after bruce tells him to get out with more finality to it then he’s ever said it before, when he says, “fine. batman.”

(jason replays it over and over again in his head. the batarang. bruce turning his back to him. the jokers screechy laugh eating at his mind. eruptions of pain from the crowbar. again. again. again. and dick. smothering the joker. a steely resolve in his brothers eyes he never wanted to see but was secretly glad for. it replays like a broken film in his head, cutting and chopping but creaking out the same tune.)

AHHH OK SO i def wanted to do so much more with this ugh but i really wanted it done td so excuse just how unpolished it is, i might go back with some new ideas in it, but i like where i ended it off. this is more or less the ‘detachment’ phase in dick’s relationship with bruce, as hes nearing the end of high school and cannot do this with bruce anymore (oh college is a whooole other ordeal hehe) but i think dick would be better to tim then what he canonically was to jason. (also because dick is totally not on a mission to get his brother back at all costs and fix this family, nope. not at all.), and i think dick just has a lot more anger in this too? and bitterness here ig? just because he had lost his parents, then his brother essentially, and had to deal with being the emotional support to bruce who was falling apart. it’s a heavy load, and dick is absolutely still himself, just when it comes to jason and the joker as well as his family in general, i think he has a lot more anger as well as less control yk? (oh also i have him less in blüdhaven in this lil thing just bc like he’s still in highschool and is in this weird phase with bruce that hes fired etc., but is now yk fully going into the, ‘i’m not speaking to you anymore’ part. SOO THATS IT FOR THAT THANK YALL SO SOOOO MUCH FOR READING UR KINDA ALL THE BEST TBH AND TYSM FOR THE SUGGESTION AGAIN THIS WAS HELLA FUN :)!!

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thegeekerynj · 3 years

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Death Metal: Infinite Hour EXXXTREME! One Shot

An Occasional Attempt to Read, Discuss and Review the Wonders of Comics

By: John Rafferty, cranky old man, and Fan of All Things Comics

Death Metal: Infinite Hour EXXXTREME! One Shot

Writers: Frank Tieri / Becky Cloonan/ Sam Humphries Artists: Tyler Kirkham / Rags Morales / Denys Cowan & Bill Sienkiewicz

‘Zactly which one o’ ya BASTICHES is gonna change my diaper?!’

———————————————————————————————————

Ambush Bug and Cheeks, the Toy Wonder.

Buddy Baker, Animal Man.

John Byrne’s Jennifer Walters, She Hulk.

Bat-Mite and Mr. Mxyzptlk.

Superboy-Prime and Alexander Luthor, Junior.

Tippy-Toe and Monkey Joe, Squirrel Girl’s companions.

And of course, Wade Wilson, the Merc with the Mouth, Deadpool.

All characters who joyously break the Fourth Wall, and interact with you, Gentle Reader, on a regular basis, should you in fact choose to read any of the publications they are featured in.

Add to this list my personal favorite, the Fraggin’ Ultimate Bastich from Czarnia, the Main Man hisself, and you have the subject of the current one shot of this speeding train to hell, LOBO.

WHYYYYYYY? You might scream, at the top of your lungs, in a near pandemonium induced frenzy… What possible reason could there be for this lunacy, outside of Keith Giffen’s mind?

Well, be at peace, Gentle Readers, for there is a reason for this madness. Reason and, believe it or not, direction. For, you see, this is a story of three parts, each unique, and special, and glorious in their lunacy.

Oh, and did I mention the last one is done by the artistic teal of Denys Cowan and Bill Sienkiewicz?

I didn’t? Wall…. Shut your fraggin’ pinhole and listen to the Main Reviewer!

The first Story is the preluder to Death Metal for Lobo, and how he becomes involved in the actual story. For those who have been following the Death Metal book, you already know Lobo has been working for Luthor, hired to find something of immense value.

Today, we get the lowdown.

We also find out that on one of the Dark Universe Earths, Bruce Wayne has combined Czarnian DNA with his own Human DNA, creating a hybrid, ‘the Mainest Man of All, the Batman Who Frags!’

The Bat’s training, with Czarnian abilities… Holy Mother of Cthulhu! But is he a match for the Ultimate Bastich?

This segment is a neat little story, the lead-in to Partytown, if Partytown is decorated in guts and every possible weapon down to living being. Needless to say, Lobo gets the advantage, takes it, and is able to get out of the Bar, right to Luthor, and his contract.

I must say before going forward that the Writing / Art Team on this Story is a complete unknown to me. This could be due to the fact I am a cranky old jackass, and only like what I like. More likely though, I am not nearly as well read as I should be, and am remiss in saying so. Either way, snob or ignorant, I will cop to both.

Frank Tieri lays the groundwork in this story like a well crafted stone floor. The imperfections, while barely noticeable add to the nuance, the ambiance of the story. You see, the Czarnian’s story is one of legend, and his autobiography (see LOBO #0, October, 1994), which could be legend, or outright bull, or whatever… Anything which appears to be out of character can be attributed to the ‘Legend of The Scourge o’ The Cosmos’.

However you happen to see it, this story works as THE kickoff point for Lobo’s introduction, and the Reader’s first real look at Stan Lee’s favorite DC Character.

Now, let’s talk the art. Tyler Kirkham is a well kept secret for me. His style complements this character very well, to the point that, should the Future State include a Lobo book, he might be a nice to see on art. There is a primal roughness that complements this character completely, and more so when the interaction between Lobo and the Bat is taking place.

Second Story, through the wormhole to the Death Metal…

Earth - Prime. Blackhawk Island.

Enter Lobo, Stage Right, with Bat Monday right behind him!

Can I say again how much I love the concept of a Batman / Solomon Grundy cross? A Batman who cannot be killed, does not feel pain, is built like a mystical brick house, and has retained SOME of his intellect and fighting skill? How do you defeat that?

Well, being a little bit smarter than Grundy, and dropping the outer wall of Blackhawk Citadel on him is a good start.

Once past the Bat Monday, on to the Death Metal… and its guardian, Katar Hol, Hawkman. It seems Katar has been studying the properties of this ultimate metal, and journaling all his findings as compiling all the information he could find about it.

Unfortunately, Hol’s notes have been stolen. Luckily, he was able to protect the Death Metal, itself.

Luckily for Lobo. Contract, part 1 complete.

I miss Rags Morales. I didn’t realize how much until I started reading this section of the story. My introduction to his artwork was Identity Crisis, one of the most polarizing stories of the last 40 years ( I highly recommend it, as an example of how grief and the ‘HUMAN’ portion of SUPERHUMAN can be portrayed in literature - Kudos to Brad Meltzer, once again), and if you, Gentle Reader, couldn’t tell, seeing it here brought the feelings back again.

The layouts, breakdowns, detail work… it all works so well in this section of the story. There isn’t a real need for the grittiness evident in the first chapter. This is a more nuanced chapter, with less breakage, and damage.

Writing by Becky Cloonan. Who the F#@% is Becky Cloonan, and why haven’t I read anything by her before? Maybe because she’s primarily known as an artist? Yeah, that’s probably it… But, Sweet Old Ones, why isn’t she writing more??

This was a phenomenal segue from the First Chapter. Well written, great action, characters were really on target, Hell, the interactions between Lobo and Monday were fantastic, and gave me the second great laugh of the issue:

‘…A Lady Never Tells!’

The drop into GemWorld is a nice touch, especially with Lobo now in possession of a material which will allow him to rewrite history, or remake the universe… now with magic!

Part the Third, and my hear starts skipping beats… Denys Cowan and Bill Sienkiewicz, Fanboy Viagra!

We start off with a Lobo-ized retcon of the Trinity’s Origin Stories, complete with LOBO in every part!

Exit to a reclining Lobo, watching this all play out in a pocket universe he created using the Death Metal, fantasizing about his next story, something involving Starfire, … Fraggin’ imaginative Bastich, that Lobo is!

So, rather than delivering the Death Metal, and completing his contract, Lobo has decided to have some Main Man Time, until Brainiac shows up to ruin it. Not by attacking, or fighting, but by pushing Lobo to complete the contract fo Luthor could get the Final Steps of the plan in gear.

Never one to be pushed, Lobo takes the opportunity to remake the Coluan in the image of Miss Tribb, his Fourth Grade teacher (who he detests), until… you guessed it, the Bat who Frags shows up. And comedy ensues!

Sam Humphries finishes this story off perfectly. Total irreverence, complete disregard, and ultimately, Lobo’s need, no his code of honor, which revolves around his completion of a contract which he has undertaken. Sure, Lobo is the ultimate cosmic jerk, under any and every word which reverences mayhem, destruction and disrespect, one would find the Czarnian’s grinning face, clenching a cigar in his teeth. But, the same photo would be found under HONOR.

This is the redeeming characteristic of Lobo, his sense of honor.

Sam Humphries redeeming characteristic? Lobo World.

As for the ART TEAM? Denys Cowan and Bill Sienkiewicz by themselves are separate perfect storms, capable of rendering incredible work. These two together, well, to quote Wayne Campbell:

‘We’re not worthy!’

These 11 pages are a glorious sensory experience. The detail work, the homage pieces (the Bat-Lobo Retcon has a very Year One look and feel), are marvelous. Nothing left to be misinterpreted, right to the shoulder push through the portal into Lobo World, these Masters of the Craft play off each other to bring about the most amazing visuals, while telling Humphries unadulterated story.

Like I said, Fanboy Viagra.

This is One for the Ages… well, Three for the Ages, and not to be missed!

Out of 5🌶 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶

#Dark Nights Death Metal #DC Comics

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holmesoverture · 7 years

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Eileen’s Official Nigel Bruce Defense Post

Weeks after first mentioning the possibility of writing this post in my Sink or Ship entry for the Rathbone/Bruce films, allow me to welcome you to my official and way the heck too long Nigel Bruce Defense Post.

I don’t think I need to convince anyone that the reputation of Bruce’s Watson has suffered in the years since he played Sherlock Holmes’ faithful Boswell. Virtually every time someone wants to praise a Watson, they feel the need to disparage Bruce to do it (“This Watson is great because he’s not a bumbler unlike some people I could mention, ahem, ahem”). James Mason only agreed to play Watson in Murder by Decree if they didn’t write him as an idiot. Edward Hardwicke was more polite about it, but he seems to have felt similarly about Bruce’s Watson’s capabilities. More recently, of course, Kate Beeton did her famous “Stupid Watson” comic, launching a nickname that seems to have caught on with some people around the interwebs.

And, in fairness, not all of the ire directed at Nigel Bruce is unwarranted. The Rathbone films do have a tendency to go way overboard with the comedy relief, and not even the fact that it was made for World War II audiences who were probably in desperate need of a laugh makes me feel better about it. This aspect of the movies hasn’t aged well. I admit that willingly.

But it’s important to note that the comedy relief really is just one aspect of Bruce’s Watson. For some reason, it’s the only aspect that people seem to remember when really he’s surprisingly multifaceted. To reduce Nigel Bruce’s interpretation of Watson to a demeaning nickname is unfair in the extreme, and since no one else seems to be willing to waste their time in refuting these gross overgeneralizations, I will heroically step in to fill this void that no one wanted filled.

And if you decide you still don’t like Bruce’s Watson after reading this post, that’s fine. My goal in writing this is not to push people into liking something that’s not to their tastes. All I want is to point out some inconsistencies in the Bumbling Oaf trope and maybe make you think about how you feel and why. (I also want to vent a little—it is the internet, after all.)

Open your minds and join me on this journey, mis amigos. It’s kind of long, but hopefully my witty insights and that one goofy picture of Batman I included will make it worth it.

Let’s start at the start: 1939’s The Hound of the Baskervilles. As I’m sure most of you are aware, this story hardly features Holmes at all. Watson is the one who heads out to Baskerville Hall alone to investigate, which requires him to be at least somewhat decent at investigative work, and he certainly is that. It’s only when Holmes shows up that he becomes the comedy relief. Later that year, in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Holmes again sends Watson to investigate alone, and while I wouldn’t say it goes well, it doesn’t go noticeably worse than in any other version. Plus, a couple of the major humorous moments feature Watson on the winning side of the joke for once.

That’s about all the time I’ll spend on Bruce’s first two outings as Dr. Watson, since they are noticeably different from the B movies which followed. (The most striking changes, for those who haven’t seen them, are that the stories now take place in the 1940s rather than the Victorian era and also they now have the budget of an office Christmas party.) It’s here that the quality of the movies starts to waver, and I believe they are what most people are referring to when they complain about Nigel Bruce. The comedy relief bits are really ramped up here, but just because Watson became more of a punching bag doesn’t mean he necessarily became less intelligent or less interesting.

Before we continue, there’s one point Hardwicke made in that interview I linked to above that I’d like to address. He basically said that Watson’s training as a doctor means that he couldn’t be stupid.

First of all, Ben Carson. Second, the entire point of this post is to demonstrate that Watson wasn’t as stupid as everyone thinks, and we’ll get to that in just a second. Third, these movies do remember that Watson is a doctor and give him a few opportunities to show off his medical chops. In Terror By Night, Watson’s the one who announces the victim died of heart failure. It’s also him who notices a small pinprick in the dead guy’s neck that suggests said heart failure was induced. Granted, he didn’t mention the mark right away because he dismissed it as insignificant, but given that Holmes also had a look at the body and didn’t notice the mark at all, I think Watson deserves some props here.

Now I’m not even going to try to defend the rest of Terror By Night because it’s pretty much the epitome of everything people dislike about Bruce’s Watson. But it does go to show that, even when the Baker Street Dozen was at its silliest, Watson still had his moments.

If we want a really solid example of Watson being competent, however, we must go elsewhere. Let’s start with The Secret Weapon. It starts out as one would expect, with Watson being charged with guarding a scientist recently escaped from mainland Europe, only to fall asleep and allow the guy to wander off (YOU HAD ONE JOB). But later on, the film adapts bits of The Dancing Men, and when Holmes and Watson first encounter the code, it’s Watson who explains its significance to the lady whose missing boyfriend wrote it. He even sits down to decode it, but it’s been slightly altered since their last encounter with it, so it comes out wrong.

Naturally it’s Watson who makes this error while Holmes discovers what the alteration was. So now Watson looks like a knucklehead even though, again, he apparently learned the Dancing Men code so well that he could use it at a moment’s notice despite not seeing it for years.

But wait, what’s this? There’s another coded message, this one even more fiendishly difficult than the first? What to do now? Holmes and Watson spend the next few hours poring over the code, trying every combination and trick they can think of in their attempts to decode the message. Oh wait, did I say Holmes and Watson? I meant Watson by himself while Holmes sulks and makes rude comments.

Not bad for a bumbling oaf.

In the end, it’s an off-hand remark from Watson that flicks on the lightbulb over Holmes’ head, enabling Holmes to swoop in and steal the limelight from poor Watson. Our detective makes his brilliant game-changing deduction thanks to his conductor of light, who’s been doing the thankless drudge work this whole time. (This kind of happens a lot, actually—twice in Dressed to Kill alone, a casual remark from Watson enables Holmes to save the day.)

The real problem here isn’t that Watson is stupid; it’s the way the scene is framed. The movie is so busy focusing on Holmes’ deductions and accomplishments that Watson’s contributions mostly go unacknowledged. It’s clear from the fact that Watson was deeply involved in the decoding process that he’s perfectly intelligent and that Holmes trusts him to help with even the more difficult aspects of crime-solving.

Something similar occurs in The Woman in Green, which features Moriarty hypnotizing people into committing suicide for reasons that escape me at the moment. (This isn’t the high point of the Rathbone/Bruce collaborations okay) Again we have a comedy relief bit, with Watson being hypnotized into taking his shoes off or some nonsense immediately after declaring that hypnotism is BS. It’s the kind of thing you’d see on a ‘60s sitcom.

The movie ends with Watson arriving almost too late to save Holmes from Moriarty because he got stopped by a police officer for speeding. Yes, haha, silly Watson, can’t do anything right and almost ruined everything. But let’s reframe this scene for a second. Think about it from Watson’s perspective. He’s given a task to do by Holmes, who is going to be in mortal danger the entire time. He’s terrified for his friend and knows that his life is in his hands. Of course he’s going to break every damn speed law in the country to try to protect him. Just imagine how he felt when he got pulled over, when he had to waste all that time trying to explain the situation to the officer, knowing that every second spent arguing could mean Holmes’ life.

If this were a scene in one of the newer, edgier Sherlock Holmes adaptations, we probably would get to see it from Watson’s perspective, and depending on the version, I’m betting Watson would have just floored it when the police sirens started going. And even if Watson did stop, he very well might have lost patience halfway through the proceedings and punched out the cop to get to Holmes.

And by “he,” I mean Panin specifically.

Obviously, Bruce’s version could not do that because of the pearl-clutching moral censors. Or rather, he couldn’t do that on-screen. It’s never stated how Watson’s interaction with the police ended. How do we know he didn’t punch the guy? Because if you think Nigel Bruce’s Watson wasn’t willing and able to kick some ass, allow me to direct your attention to The Spider Woman, in which Holmes fakes his death, then comes back disguised as a postman and makes disparaging remarks about that fakey detective Sherlock Holmes, because Holmes is a dick like that. Bruce, being one of the more patient Watsons, tolerates it for a while before knocking Mailman Holmes right into a chair.

Again, this scene is played for laughs, but from Watson’s perspective, it’s about as unfunny as you can get. The man was unable to stop the death of his closest and dearest friend. He’s just had a hard day of packing up Holmes’ things for a museum, then some asshole postman shows up and starts insulting his recently deceased best friend for no reason. It’s little surprise that he snapped. So yeah, Bruce’s Watson was 100% down with decking people when placed under sufficient emotional strain, which he may well have been in The Woman in Green.

I think I’ve gotten away from my point here, but it basically boils down to the fact that Watson was not an idiot at the end of The Woman in Green; the way the scene is framed just makes him look like one.

There are also times when Bruce’s Watson doesn’t seem to do much of anything, which may be misconstrued as stupidity. Let’s look at Dressed to Kill. Now towards the end, Watson does get A Scandal in Bohemia-ed pretty bad, but that comes right after Holmes walks right into the bad guy’s trap like a knucklehead, so they’re roughly even on that front. The only real difference is that Holmes solves his problem on his own, while Watson needs Holmes to figure out the solution to his dilemma for him.

But aside from that and a couple of minor silly incidents, all Watson really does is act as a sounding board for Holmes. Some people may interpret this as his being useless, but this is what Holmes used to want in a partner. Quoth Sherlock Holmes in The Blanched Soldier, “A confederate who foresees your conclusions and course of action is always dangerous, but one to whom each development comes as a perpetual surprise, and to whom the future is always a closed book, is indeed an ideal helpmate.”

This line demonstrates two things: one, wow, Holmes, gush some more why don’t you. Two, however the characters have evolved in recent years, the original Holmes didn’t want someone like Liu, who ends up becoming proficient enough to start her own detective agency. He wanted someone more like Bruce, who didn’t have nearly the same capacity for deductive reasoning but who had the curiosity and inquisitiveness to make, according to Canon Holmes, “an ideal helpmate.”

There are plenty of the original stories in which Watson does little more than narrate—in The Beryl Coronet, for example, I’m pretty sure that the only thing Watson really does is point out their future client in the street. I think we’ve gotten so used to Watson being an action hero or a detective in his (or her) own right that we forget his original primary role was as the storyteller. (That is literally where the nickname Boswell comes from.) Being most definitively a sidekick doesn’t make Nigel Bruce useless or stupid; it means he’s fulfilling the role originally set out for his character.

The comedy relief business is, of course, largely an invention of the Rathbone/Bruce films. But honestly, I think the problem with Bruce’s Watson isn’t so much him as it is the filmmakers’ obsession with building up Holmes to be inhumanly perfect. The Spider Woman has a perfect example of this: there’s one scene that adapts that bit from The Devil’s Foot where Holmes and Watson are almost killed by poisonous gas and Watson has to save them both. Here, however, it’s Holmes who does the rescuing, because of course he does. Can’t have Watson grabbing any glory, now can we?

In fact, basically everyone who isn’t Holmes—and arguably Moriarty, though he sure did fall hard for the Brer Rabbit routine in The Secret Weapon, to say nothing of his ignoble demise in The Woman in Green—is depicted as a little lacking in the brain department. Lestrade and company are dim enough that Watson frequently calls them out for being boneheads. Holmes’ clients almost inevitably doubt Holmes’ abilities despite his great reputation, and Watson just loves rubbing their noses in how smart Holmes really is.

(That’s another thing people seem to dislike about Nigel Bruce for some reason. I’ve heard complaints about how he’s a suck-up who mindlessly admires Holmes despite how rude Holmes is to him. Again, this is an oversimplification. I already covered this in Sink or Ship, so I won’t belabor the point here, but I view Watson’s admiring comments less like sucking up and more like pride in his friend and his work. Not only that, Watson doesn’t always passively accept impoliteness. He flat out tells Holmes to stop being cranky in The Secret Weapon, and he gets quite huffy when he thinks Holmes is trying to make a fool of him in Terror by Night. Plus, Bruce is not even the only Watson to have stars in his eyes every time he looks at Holmes—Burke in particular puts up with quite a lot [see The Solitary Cyclist for a great example], and he starts looking murdery whenever someone fails to recognize his brilliant detective buddy.)

It’s fashionable nowadays to make Watson almost as smart as Holmes, which only amplifies the perceived stupidity of Nigel Bruce’s Watson. But in the original stories, Watson isn’t a deducing genius. That’s the whole point. He is basically the reader stand-in, the average Joe thrust into Holmes’ world and continually dazzled by it (and him). Now if you prefer the more current trends, that’s one thing. But to condemn Bruce for not magically predicting and following said trends is about as fair as criticizing Adam West’s Batman for not being serious enough, completely ignoring the fact that at the time Batman was less “I Am The Night” and more “Robin got temporary amnesia and super-strength from a bolt of lightning and now wants to fight Batman because a white guy pretending to be a native told him to.”

Would I lie to you about a thing like that?

And it’s not as though Bruce is the only Watson who bungles things. During Solomin’s tenure as the good doctor, he got whacked in the head when trying to sleuth on his own, got his dirty footprints all over Charles Augustus Milverton’s house (which Holmes then forced him to clean up), and completely and hilariously failed to disguise himself as a priest. That’s saying nothing of the first half of the pilot, where Watson assumes Holmes is a criminal mastermind and conducts his own wildly misguided, eminently goofy investigation that culminates in Holmes knocking him out during a boxing match. And yet no one ever accuses Solomin of being a bumbler (not that they should). I’m not sure why people are willing to excuse him and not Bruce. Is it because Solomin is young and cute?

Maybe it’s because his dumbassery led to the infamous Cuddling in the Carriage scene.

Or maybe everyone’s problem is not just Bruce himself, but the fact that his performance had such a major influence on Watsons everywhere for literal decades. In the 1950s Sherlock Holmes TV show, Marion-Crawford’s Watson clearly borrows a lot from Bruce in terms of turning the comedy relief aspect up to eleven. (I would argue Marion-Crawford is actually worse in this regard.) Dr. Dawson in The Great Mouse Detective physically resembles Bruce, as does Ric Spiegal in those Wishbone episodes, even though both of them were supposed to be adapting books and shouldn’t have had anything to do with the Rathbone/Bruce films. I guess some folks got resentful that Bruce Watson was overshadowing Canon Watson?

But it’s important to remember here that Nigel Bruce was one of the first film Watsons with any discernible personality traits. If you’ve seen any of the Sherlock Holmes silent films, you know what I mean. If not, you haven’t heard of any of their Watsons for good reason.

To start with, Watson doesn’t even appear in 1900’s Sherlock Holmes Baffled (which is only a minute long) or in 1912’s The Copper Beeches (which is so ridiculous that I may have to give it its own post). Then came Hubert Willis in the Eille Norwood series of early ‘20s shorts. They’re rather hyper-focused on the casework here, so no one gets any characterization (at least not in the two I’ve seen). And Roland Young in 1922’s Sherlock Holmes was onscreen for maybe 10 minutes and did almost nothing. I didn’t even remember he was in the dang movie until I recently rewatched it for Sink or Ship.

This is his only conversation with Holmes in like the whole movie. So much for being intimate companions.

And I’m sure there are other examples. So even if you don’t necessarily like what Bruce did (and/or was told to do) with the character, he some deserves respect for effort and originality. I also think it’s a little unfair that people keep dinging him for not being A+ perfect at doing something no one else (with the possible exception of Ian Fleming in the Wontner films) had ever tried before, i.e. making Screen Watson interesting. Dude didn’t become The Watson for no reason, after all.

To conclude this post, we can return to my Batman analogy. I feel like modern public attitude towards Nigel Bruce is comparable to how some people get all upset about Adam West because that’s not the real Batman! The real Batman is grim and gritty and for ADULTS, not some Batusi-dancing weirdo! No joke: the first time I went to a comic book shop, the guy who worked there said that Adam West—my first Batman, the guy who got me into superheroes and therefore the main reason I was in that shop in the first place—wasn’t a real Batman.

Needless to say, I have little use for snobbery in any fandom. So I am going to say now about Nigel Bruce what I should have said then about Adam West: if you don’t like the goofy version, don’t watch the goofy version. There are literally hundreds of versions of this character out there; not every single one is going to cater to your tastes, nor should they. This fact should not detract from your enjoyment of the versions you do like, and it doesn’t make the versions you dislike less legit. The old has at least as much basis in canon as the new, and even if it’s parts of canon you’d rather ignore, other people feel differently, so don’t be a jerkweed about it.

But before you make up your mind about Nigel Bruce, maybe take a sec and give him another chance. “Stupid Watson” is a reductive label that focuses only on the worst the Rathbone films had to offer and does not give due credit to a genuinely groundbreaking character with more depth than I’ve ever seen anyone acknowledge. Do some of the movies portray him better than others? Sure, but you can say that of every episodic Sherlock Holmes adaptation. For the most part, it’s not nearly as bad as people seem to think. And even when it is that bad, it’s still a combination of canon compliance and original character development that was entirely unique at the time and that deserves to be looked upon with, if nothing else, gratitude for paving the way for interesting Watsons everywhere.

#rathbone holmes #media analysis #omg it's finally done #i admit maybe nostalgia is coloring my thinking a little #but dangit i love nigel bruce i will defend him forever

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