Old Man Kent and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

Five panels do not equal one cover.

Oddly enough, last week centered around an issue in which an older male character who derailed the narrative flow of the story because he was a square peg forcibly being hammered into a round hole of a story and has a tendency to suck all the air out of the room, so he's constantly pulling focus. This week however, we have an older male character who can literally suck all the air out of the room who wakes up and discovers that he has become a square peg in a round hole and manages to bring true, sorrowful pathos into a series where they just beat a Mega Man boss fight. Join me as I explore DC Comics' Crisis on Infinite Earths #11.

Normally, I would start off giving my opinion of the cover. However, I really don't know how to discuss a cover that doesn't bother to do what a cover is meant to accomplish. Namely, a cover is meant to create a singular unified image that lures in the reader by hinting at what the story inside will be like. In issue #11, however, the cover is a bunch of panels. Issue #3 had done a similar trick, but it had the virtue of using the Monitor looking over the various tableaux depicted like a benevolent deity looking over the world. This on the other hand makes no effort to unify the different images. It's just a collection of unused art thrown together. The individual images are nice, don't get me wrong, but they don't constitute a singular crystallized visual thesis.

Up top, it looks like Kid Flash and Superman-1 are keeping Superman-2 from being sucked into a vortex.

Middle left, Wonder Woman-1 and Donna Troy are facing down Wonder Woman-2 and her daughter, Fury, in Themiscyra. I smell hijinks. Wacky ones.

Dead center Lyla is once again. Or at least her head is, as it stares out at the reader.

Middle right, Dr. Fate, Etrigan, and The Phantom Stranger are coming to the rescue of a character who you'd only recognize in this series if you'd paid attention to the Monitor Tapes last issue.
Down below, an array of characters look on in trepidation, as characters tend to do in this series. What caught my attention in this panel is the number of Bat family members is this panel. Alfred, Batman, and Jason Todd flank an embracing Robin-2 and Huntress. It's basically Batman, his surrogate father and his children both surrogate and natural, both Earth-1 android Earth-2.

The issue starts with an image of the Earth. It echoes back to the first issue where we saw the birth of the multiverse, except the narration makes it clear that there is only one universe now.

Perry doesn't give a single fuck as long
as nobody sits in his spot. See also:
Sheldon Cooper

ERth -2 Clark Kent wakes up in his apartment, thinking that the past 10 issues were a horrible dream. I think "prolonged, poorly paced fever dream" might be a bit closer to the truth than horrible, but on with the show. He's confused as to why his wife Lois isn't by his side, but shrugs it off and gets dressed for work. Once there, he goes to his office as he usually does when he's angrily met with the office's rightful owner Perry White. Clark is confused and lost for words when he is rescued out by the Clark of Earth-1, who passes Clark-2 off as his slightly dotty uncle. There is an exchange between Earth-1 Clark and Perry that suggests that Perry is aware of Clark's dial identity, but Perry is pretty coy about it.

Okay, there is a lot of interaction between these two this issue, so for simplicity's sake, I'll call Earth-1 "Clark" and Earth-2 "Old Man Kent."

The two Supermen suit up and take to the air, attempting to sort out the situation. Old Man Kent concludes that he must simply be on Earth-1 and is eager to get back to his wife. The very next thought he has is to tell Clark that he should settle down with his Lois, too. Geez, Old Man Kent might either be projecting, playing Yente the Matchmaker, or both.

It might be a bit more complicated than Old Man Kent simply being displaced. They both recognize that they woke up that morning thinking the events of crisis were simply nightmares, and for the most part the rest of the world, at least those they've encountered since waking up can't even say that much. There are some things that they recall, albeit hazily. There's common memory of Supergirl dying in battle, but the specifics aren't there anymore. When they touch down on solid confront a cop, who doesn't even recognize Old Man Kent, despite Earth-2 being a long-standing known quantity at this point.

Joan Garrick: Real Housewife of NJ

They resume their flight, but then they spot a sign for the Twin Cities, Central and Keystone City. But wait... aren't they supposed to be opposite reality analogues of one another? Old Man Kent spots the home of Joan and Jay Garrick, the elderly Flash of Earth-2. Joan, who is multitasking cooking barbecue and wearing a bumpit, which makes me think Keystone might be along the Jersey Coast. Maybe Ocean City. Considering Metropolis is supposed to be New York City, it makes sense that this is their first pit stop. Well, Joan recognizes Clark alright, but wonders who his older friend is. It's also fairly well-insinuated that she knows Clark as Superman, whereas previously the Kents and the Garricks were longstanding family friends. Old Man Kent's bewilderment gets to take a break, however, when Jay comes out and hallelujah! Someone recognizes Old Man Kent.


Jay takes the two down to his lab, where we also find Wally West finishing up repairs on the cosmic treadmill. Leave it to the Flash family to caucus and form a plan in the face of confusion faster than anybody else. I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but I kind of love the Allen-West-Garrick clan. They're all noble, if a little bit dorky, but unashamedly so.

The group discuss the details of what appears to be a mixed up, merged timeline, although they dance around outright calling it that. The basic fact of the matter is that in the world in which they all find themselves, characters from Earth-1 and Earth-2 seem to have shared a history... except for Old Man Kent, who nobody remembers.

We're sorry. The reality you dialed is no longer in service.

Jay suspects that they are on neither of their worlds and Old Man Kent seriously doesn't like the sound of that. On that note, Wally lets them know that the Cosmic Treadmill is prepped and ready to go and that he intends to go looking for Barry after they're done here. The four of them but the their pedals to the metal and the Cosmic Treadmill does it's thing. Whereas once, they would have found themselves on another Earth, they now find themselves in a gaping abyss of nothingness.

They realize there are no longer other realities except the one they woke up on. Wally suggests they get back to the remaining world and figure out what's going on, but Old Man Kent, concluding that he doesn't belong in a world where nobody seems to remember him, thinks he's better off here and begins to fly off. Clark grabs him by the cape, preventing him from flying off into oblivion and the speedsters hotfoot the Cosmic Treadmill with all speed to get them out of there before Old Man Kent can break free. They rematerialize back in Jay's workshop and the Treadmill is smashed to smithereens, which is convenient now that it serves absolutely no purpose. Wally suggests that they gather as many people together as possible to figure things out, and he knows just the place...

Behold as your innocence curls up and dies.

So yeah, that last paragraph had a lot going on, so I just want to reiterate this in case it got lost in the shuffle. Superman just attempted suicide. That's a big deal. Not only is it disturbing because, being the Superman of Earth-2, and thus the Golden Age iteration, he's technically the Superman readers have known the longest, but it's also incredibly unsettling when you consider what Superman is. He's a paragon of hope. Hell, that's what the "S" shield on his chest means in Kryptonian. For him to fall into such utter despair over the course of a morning really shakes you and drives home how world shattering this is. For once, I like the fact that this isn't neat and tidy. This is bringing some real pathos without delivering another funeral for a friend/noble sacrifice scenario. Old Man Kent just had his whole world taken away from him and what few people do remember him won't let him take away his own life as well.

Old Man Kent's goth phase came rather late in life...

Elsewhere in space, Rory Williams, er, I mean, Rip Hunter and a bunch of people I don't care about have found Brainiac's space vessel, where both it and Brainiac's body itself seem to be dead or inert. Right. DC Comics is going to kill him twice in three issues and off-panel, no less. Oh, DC. You really have me believing. Let me sign up for a pyramid scheme while I'm at it.

Brainiac's dead? I'll have a better time believing forwarding a
chain letter will bring me riches and fame.

Over at Titans Tower, all the newly condensed world's heroes are gathered to discuss what we already know. Only those of them who were on-site for last issue's climactic battle are able to remember the previous existence of the multiverse. Quite notably, Lyla is once again in her Harbinger persona. When that is questioned after having declared that she'd never be able to be Harbinger again, she asserts that much that once was has been rewritten.

Lyla couldn't wait to try on that
ugly brides maids gown a second time.

There are a lot of heartstring-tugging moments in this sequence, such as Lady Quark recognizing Old Man Kent as a man without a world, just as she and Pariah are. I have a feeling that now that he's been absolved of his guilt in the destruction of the multiverse, Lady Quark is going out of her way to be his friend in order to sublimate her rage. They seem to only appear together in this issue-- including the cover.

But I think I have to give the sob story award for the issue to Huntress. There have been a couple different Huntresses and I feel like it's necessary to give a little backstory for this to really understand the impact: In this era, Huntress was Helena Wayne. She is the adult daughter of Earth-2's Batman, Bruce Wayne, and reformed Selina Kyle, Catwoman. As such, Alfred is her surrogate grandfather and Dick Grayson her surrogate brother... also, technically her boss in the law firm she ends up joining. She adopts her superhero persona after her mother is blackmailed by a former associate into donning her Catwoman persona and subsequently caused her death. Not long after becoming Huntress, her father passed away as well.

He didn't destroy my entire world.
We're BFFs 4ever!

I know a lot of people, especially in my age demographic, she is better known as mafia princess turned anti-mafia vigilante, Helena Bertinelli. In fact, I even remember a conversation in which a lifelong DC fan was upset when New 52 continuity relapsed to Helena Wayne. Speaking for myself, I have always liked the concept of the Bat-Family. In fact, I have a hard time relating to Batman when operating independently of them. I suspect saying that might be blasphemy, but I always like Batman better when that "I work alone and live on a consistent diet of justice and angst" mentality is counterbalanced by his mentorship and pseudo-parental guidance. It humanizes him without diminishing his otherness. However, much like what I like about Damian Wayne actively trying to connect with his father in the present, there is something so fantastically tragic about Helena Wayne losing that connection and trying to live up to her father's memory.

Tying that back into the actual story at hand, Helena relates an account of like Old Man Kent, waking up and discovering she doesn't exist in this world when she goes to her apartment and finding someone else living there. Her story culminates in a painful moment when she describes going to where her father's grave ought to be and finding its absence. Then who is she joined by but fellow Bat-Family member and Crisis survivor Dick Grayson, who embraces her like only a protective older brother could.

The best Dick Grayson is big bro Dick.

Pardon me. Looking for some Kleenex... okay, back to the review.

Lyla takes the floor and goes into a lengthy speech about how histories have been altered and merged in the wake of the unified universe's rebirth. As such, certain characters whose existences critically overlap now find that their histories never happened. Only one Tom and Martha Wayne were gunned down in Crime Alley. Only one shuttle was sent from Krypton on the eve of its annihilation. I know in-universe, this is pretty major, but I have to admit that it really sounds like this issue is going to great pains to make sure you understand what's happening. I feel like a teacher is talking to me ridiculously slowly and clearly while pressing visual aids up to my face.

We have to take you out of the story before
someone realizes you're just a She-Ra clone.

Elsewhere, a bunch of occult heroes come to the aid of Amethyst. Yeah, like I said, instead of giving you a taste of what's going on in this issue, this cover just gives away surprises. Amethyst apparently is another multiverse refugee. My problem with her inclusion here is that her existence, like Superboy-Prime's, diminishes the narrative impact of the scenario Wolfman and Perez established. Initially, it was only the denizens of the five Earths who survived. With each extra-dimensional character that appears whose Earth wasn't included in Lyla's remaining Earths council, it just makes me think that the Anti-Monitor really doesn't take his shtick seriously. Then again, I'm growing more confident in my conclusion that he's a sub-par main antagonist.

They help her escape from a crowd of superstitious villagers... in Las Vegas? You know what? I'm not overthinking it. This interlude is shoehorned in and I'm fairly convinced they included her under editorial edict. Moving on before I waste another brain cell.

Not understanding what is going on or where she is, Amethyst attempts to return to her reality of Gemworld (it's a truly, truly, truly outrageous place), but something both bars the portal she creates and blinds her in the process. Dr. Fate steadies her, but on looking her in the eye, he recognizes something about her and realizes that she cannot stay on Earth and opens a portal to return her to her reality. Goddammit, DC! Didn't we just spend over half an issue going into agonizing detail about how there is only one reality now? You couldn't wait a full issue?

In the background of this subplot, however, are ominous pink clouds and the Anti-Monitor's shadow warriors. They go completely unnoticed.

Old Man Kent really does get the shortest stick here.
He lost his history and he's too old to start anew.

In the skies above, Clark chases down a despondent Old Man Kent. He refuses to give up on the elder Superman in his time of need, just as Old Man Kent didn't give up on him. Old Man Kent is at his lowest ebb. With the world rewritten and everything he once knew gone, he finds himself in a world where the one person who means the most to him has never existed. And here he is a man with no place in the world. Both of these are merely the result of the whim of fate. He has no sense of place or purpose in this world. I would argue that this moment is tragically short, but it's just so beautifully sad a moment that to tamper with it would spoil it.

Back at Titans Tower, we get a few more instances in which this continuity clean up results in more problems than solutions. Donna Troy relates her experience on far away on Themiscyra Paradise Island. Wonder Woman and her sorta sister meet Wonder Woman and her daughter. And that's about it. I didn't get my wacky hijinks. I just got awkwardness. Meanwhile, Power Girl doesn't understand why she is remembered but Old Man Kent isn't. My no-prize answer is that her defining attribute isn't being Kryptonian. It's her boob window. Maybe that protected her.

He has traumatic past life memories about
his clashing green and purple wardrobe.

Batman, Robin (the young Jason Todd one, for clarity's sake), and Alexander Luthor report that they checked out Lex Luthor, who they found in prison. Not only does this Luthor not remember the events of Crisis, but he actually shows an incredible amount of disdain for costumed super-persons as a rule. Knowing that we're trading in the mad scientist in green and purple power armor for the sly, Machiavellian power broker we're all much more familiar with, we can see the transition evident here without it being really concrete about the direction the character would be taking, which would ultimately be codified in John Byrne's The Man of Steel mini series.

I found the inclusion of Alexander Luthor feels odd in this instance. Yes, I can understand why he would be there. He has previously demonstrated a curiosity about his father (in retrospect, I realize he was creeping on a private moment between Old Man Kent and Old Lady Lois because she was his mother on Earth-3), but last time they were face to face, we had insight into how Alexander views his father's doppelganger, and by extension, Alexander as a person, as opposed to Alexander as a walking macguffin. However, he is just present in this scene, which is unfortunate. It felt like he is utilized in this scene more to give him a presence in the issue than to further his character.

Finally, Changeling finally has the wherewithal to move the plot forward. As poignant as some  of these scenes of singular universe realization have been, they've overstayed their welcome. Gar points out the ominous pink clouds, which the narration does us a solid by illustrating just how widespread they've become. And by "widespread," I mean "global." Why do I think this is such a glorious boon? Well, not to put too fine a point on it, we get to see more of Gorilla City. I'm generally more of a Bronze Age/Modern Era reader, but I have to give credit to this most silly of Silver Age inventions. Sam Simeon appears in all of one panel, but I think he might be my new favorite. It's also nice to see that Solovar has been upgraded from "probably dead" to "seriously injured" due to DC's hard reset to continuity.

Pariah is the heroes' equivalent of a canary in a mine shaft.

Elsewhere, the Challengers of the Unknown continue to be characters I don't care about. At least the off-brand GI Joe characters we met during the "protect quest" portion of the early issues had the decency to include a haunted tank. These guys, I'm sorry. Wolfman and Perez have done a decent job with making us feel somewhat acquainted with a wide array of characters from DC's catalog, but the Challengers fall flat. Then again, with such interesting and bizarre characters peopling the DCU, a bunch of science guys who don't really have a visible story hook and seemingly exist to exposit scientifically are doomed to underwhelm. Anyway, whilst spelunking they find an entire underground cavern full of the evil anti-matter pink storm clouds.

Back at Titans Tower, Gar compares the storm to Ghostbusters, presumably the scene after Walter Peck unleashed the ghost containment tank. Lady Quark notices Pariah vanishing. She looks genuinely concerned, despite how frequently this happens. Again, further supporting my assertion that she is overcompensating for having spent so much time hating him. Pariah seems to be caught halfway through being teleported away and sounds especially pained by the experience. Meanwhile, Alexander Luthor's body is once again half antimatter. So yeah, his brief existence as a character has ended and he's once again a full-fledged macguffin.

Oh, like you weren't thinking it...

It is finally becoming quite apparent to everyone that they aren't out of the Crisis woods just yet. On a rooftop above, Clark and Old Man Kent look up and see an astral outline of the Anti-Monitor staring down at the last Earth, making a proclamation of, "Welcome to your doom!"

I'm going to have to call shenanigans on this final splash page. Oh, it's perfectly serviceable, don't get me wrong. My problem with it is that it's an example of what I also complained about with the cover: laziness in the art. It's less noticeable than the cover mind you. Whereas the cover looks like a few random unused panels tossed together in a failed attempt to create a singular definitive thesis, this is an example of a recycled moment. I probably wouldn't even notice or care if it was in some random issue of New Teen Titans, and honestly that would be an excellent way to illustrate Trigon. However, in the same story, one that even to this day purports to be the biggest story DC has ever told, it shows either a lack of creativity or a fondness for shortcuts to repeat a final page reveal for the penultimate issue in the same cosmic style as that of the second issue. I could see an argument for symmetry, but I doubt it, especially considering the last couple issues haven't even bothered with final reveals.

No, really, guys. I'm totally going to destroy you all, this time.
I mean it. Why are you laughing?

I'm honestly not sure what my final opinion of this issue is. On the one hand, looking at it as an individual issue, it delivered some intensely powerful character moments, did a seismic amount of world building, and it made me care about certain characters who have been featured heavily since the beginning of this maxi series as well as others I wouldn't have otherwise even known about. It helped make what is essentially an editorially mandated revision to continuity into something that feels personal. That is no mean feat.

However, as the penultimate installment of a 12-issue event series, it feels out of place. I honestly love less action packed "palate cleanser" issues that allow the reader to breath and take in what has happened and how the plot has changed our characters. However, they work better in an ongoing series, where they can split up different story arcs without taking away from a finite number of issues needed to tell one overarching narrative. Crisis already had one with issue #8 and I generally welcomed a break from the action. As much as I liked all the attention to character and this opportunity to take in what has happened, with only two issues left to go, I felt like this issue should have been building towards the final climactic confrontation instead of what effectively amounts to a superhero get-together and peer counselling session. The final threat of the Anti-Monitor kind of sneaks up on them, reminiscent of a toddler who is genuinely surprised every time a jack-in-the-box pops out. I like it on its own, but within the context of what it is, where it is positioned in the overall story, and what function it ought to be performing, it falls short of what the event needs.

Join me next week as I finally get to see the final Crisis. No not that Final Crisis. Ugh. Why did they list it that way on the "next time" tag? Next time, we're putting this series to rest with Crisis on Infinite Earths #12.