Review: DEADPOOL/BATMAN #1

  Writers: Zeb Wells, Chip Zdarsky, Kelly Thompson, Kevin Smith, Al Ewing, Frank Miller, Ryan North Artists: Greg Capullo, Terry Dodson, Tim Townsend, Rachel Dodson, Gurihiru, Adam Kubert, Dike Ruan, Frank Miller, Ryan Stegman Colorists: Alex Sinclair, Terry Dodson, Gurihiru, Frank Martin, Moreno Dinisio Letterers: Clayton Cowles, Joe Caramagna   Reviewed by: Joshua Raynor   Summary Deadpool/Batman #1 is a high-profile one-shot special that marks a long-awaited crossover between Marvel and DC. Written by Zeb Wells with art by Greg Capullo, the issue centers on Deadpool being hired for a job in Gotham City. When Deadpool arrives in Gotham, he immediately clashes with Bruce Wayne (and later, the Dark Knight). His mission: “take down” Batman — but things don’t go as smoothly as he might have hoped. Despite the rocky start, Deadpool and Batman reach an uneasy alliance when they decide to team up to stop The Joker, who has stolen dangerous materials to make Joker Venom and threatens to wreak havoc on the city. Beyond the main story, the one-shot includes a series of backup stories that feature other DC/Marvel pairings. These include Daredevil & Green Arrow, written by Kevin Smith, Rocket Racoon & Green Lantern, an adorable Jeff the Land Shark & Krypto story, plus more!

Positives After two decades, the powerhouse comic book companies, DC & Marvel, have joined forces once again to bring fans the highly anticipated crossover... Deadpool/Batman #1! And in my humble opinion, they did not disappoint. And choosing to start this new partnership off with two of the most popular comic book characters today was a brilliant move. The fact that these two are wildly different — both in tone and personality — made for a really fun, exciting read. One of the strongest aspects of the issue is how it plays off the contrast between Deadpool’s chaotic, fourth-wall–breaking humor and Batman’s disciplined, brooding detective persona, both of which Zeb Wells nailed. Rather than forcing them to be too similar, the issue leans into their differences, creating both tension and comedy. Greg Capullo’s artwork is another major highlight. Known for his gritty, kinetic style — especially on Batman — Capullo brings Gotham to life in a way that feels both familiar and fresh. His action sequences are sharp and cinematic, giving the story real visual energy. His artwork does an amazing job of grounding the more outlandish elements of Deadpool’s presence in a suitably dark yet dynamic Gotham.

Negatives While the main story is absolutely fun, it's not groundbreaking at all. It's a fairly predictable story, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but as this is the first of a new series of crossovers for DC and Marvel, I was hoping for a harder punch, so to speak. Also, some of the backup stories (which I will talk about next) are far more interesting than this one, and there are a few of them that I would have much rather had as the main story, allowing them to be fleshed out more.   Backup Stories The backup stories in this issue are not just throwaways — they bring real value. They manage to set up a new universe to play in, called the "Infiniverse," which I hope we continue to see explored in upcoming crossovers. And one of them even hearkens back to the Amalgam Universe days. Now, let's take a look at what worked in each of these stories.

Captain American & Wonder Woman — "The Gun & The Sword" Chip Zdarsky and Terry Dodson offer a nostalgic and heartfelt pairing, setting their story in World War II to explore a bond between Steve Rogers and Diana Prince. The narrative treads familiar territory — patriotism, warrior ethics, and sacrifice — but manages to feel earnest rather than trite. Dodson’s vintage-style art helps evoke the era and underscores the gravity of their shared mission, while Zdarsky’s writing tries to highlight how these two iconic figures inspire one another across time. Jeff! & Krypto — "Catch" Kelly Thompson and Gurihiru deliver an adorable, nearly-wordless romp with Jeff the Land Shark and Krypto the Superdog playing volleyball near the Fortress of Solitude. There’s something delightfully simple yet emotionally resonant here: it’s not about saving the world, but about innocent friendship and joy. Gurihiru’s soft, expressive artwork captures every wag, splash, and playful bounce, making this short story a warm and whimsical palate-cleanser that adds genuine charm to the issue. Daredevil & Green Arrow — "The Red and The Green" Kevin Smith gets to once again dive into these two iconic characters, and manages to bring us an interesting tale of how they meet and work together to take on both the League of Shadows and The Hand. The contrast between Oliver Queen’s archery-based tactics and Matt Murdock’s acrobatics and martial arts is handled well, giving each hero room to shine, and Adam Kubert’s art brings the fight scenes to life in a vivid and gritty way. This feels like a classic “two lone-wolf heroes come together” story that resonates both with their shared sense of responsibility and their very different approaches to heroism. My only issue with it is that, due to the page constraint, the ending feels extremely rushed. This is one that I would have loved to have seen as a main story in its own book, allowing it some more time to breathe. Rocket Raccoon & Green Lantern — "Rocket Raccoon Has A Green Lantern Ring Now"

While this next one is only two pages long, writer Al Ewing managed to pack it with imagination and clever humor. It playfully explores the idea of what might happen if the Guardians of the Universe and the Guardians of the Galaxy ever swapped talent, and the result is Rocket wielding a Lantern ring in the most chaotic way possible. The story pokes fun at long-standing Green Lantern lore while still showing affection for it, making the gag land even harder for longtime fans. It's visually a treat, thanks to Dike Ruan's wonderful art — especially Rocket decked out in a Lantern look that channels pure Guy Gardner energy. This backup delivers quick laughs, deep-cut references, and a great ending that leaves you wanting a continuation of this story.

Old Man Logan & Batman: The Dark Knight Returns — "Showdown" Frank Miller gives us a gritty, tongue-in-cheek clash of these two aging legends that reads like a nod to both characters’ most iconic interpretations. With only a couple of pages to work with, the story doesn’t have room to build a plot so much as stage the fantasy matchup: two grizzled veterans slugging it out, trading razor-edged dialogue, and seeing who still has the fight in them. It’s quick, blunt, and knowingly macho — the kind of “who would win?” scenario fans have debated for decades, now realized with a smirk and a fistfight. Critics of Miller’s evolving style will find the usual rough edges, but the art still carries the raw energy and bold iconography that have kept his work distinctive and memorable. The short length keeps the story from being remarkable or deep, but it’s undeniably entertaining. As a brief indulgence in hard-boiled comic grit — with two giants beating on each other and enjoying every punch — it delivers exactly what it promises. Logo — "Enter: LOGO!"

Ryan North and Ryan Stegman introduce Logo — a fusion of Lobo and Logan a.k.a. Wolverine — in a gritty, visually aggressive style that contrasts amusingly with the playful, self-aware writing. Despite running only a few pages, the story manages to spark real excitement and curiosity, teasing the possibility of a larger Amalgam revival without ever explicitly promising one. Instead of being part of this new "Infiniverse," this story embraces full-on fusion, giving just enough clues, attitude, and fan-service nods to make long-time comic readers wonder whether Amalgam could actually make a comeback. Whether it’s a genuine tease or just a playful jab from the creative team, the effect is the same: Logo ends up feeling like one of the most intriguing curiosities in the entire issue.

  Verdict

Deadpool/Batman #1 is a lively, entertaining start to what could become a landmark series of Marvel/DC crossovers. The main story delivers exactly what fans would hope for: the chaotic humor of Deadpool bouncing off the dark, brooding intensity of Batman, all brought to life by Greg Capullo’s cinematic artwork. While the plot itself isn’t groundbreaking, the fun dynamic between the two leads and the strong visual storytelling make it a thoroughly enjoyable read. Zeb Wells’ writing leans into their differences in tone and personality, creating both comedic and tension-filled moments that make the issue feel fresh, even in familiar Gotham territory.

What truly elevates this issue, however, are the backup stories. From heartfelt nostalgia in Captain America & Wonder Woman, to adorable charm in Jeff! & Krypto, to imaginative and humorous mini-adventures like Rocket Raccoon & Green Lantern, each story brings a distinct flavor to the anthology. The grittier, “legendary showdown” of Old Man Logan & Batman and the playful, fusion-based tease of Logo further showcase the creative ambition of this crossover, hinting at a larger “Infiniverse” playground for future stories. While some backups could have benefited from more pages, together they create a diverse, exciting experience that balances humor, action, and nostalgia. In short, this issue is a must-read for fans of either universe and a promising launch point for future crossovers.

  Score: 4.5/5

The Robert Rodriguez adaptation of Frank Miller’s Sin City comics is often praised for its stylistic bravado, but reading the original strips next to the 2005 live action version shows how much nuance is lost in translation. The comics are over-the-top, noir-flavored, and every bit as cartoonish and violent as the most gruesome grindhouse horror film or madcap Warner Brothers short—but also deeply human and tied to the medium in ways the film flattens.

Take Marv. In the comics, he’s not just a hulking brute—he’s a manchild. When we see him visiting home, his room is still set up like a little boy’s, with an airplane hanging from the ceiling and toys strewn about. These details are cut from the film but are crucial to understanding Marv's psychology.

Dialogue also clarifies his arrested development. In the film, Marv narrates that, “Lucille’s a dyke, though god knows why, with a body like that she could have any man she wants,” but in the comics, this is expanded to him outright saying this to her, and then being genuinely surprised when she’s offended. He never brings it up again. This reveals Marv isn’t homophobic—he just doesn’t understand social norms any more than a child would.

In the film, Marv is implied to be a virgin until Goldie sleeps with him. In both the film and the comic, he says that his face prevents him from even "buying a woman" but the more detailed psychological portrait that Frank Miller has time to paint in his chosen medium clarifies that it’s Marv's arrested development, not his looks, that prevent him from forming intimate relationships.

Marv is acutely aware of his limitations: he’s mentally disabled, yet self-aware enough to recognize those limits and work within them. This makes him both innocent and dangerous. Dwight compares Marv to a barbarian, but that's only half the story. Marv is a fusion of archetypes—on one hand, Conan the Barbarian, the embodiment of brute strength and relentless will; on the other, Meatwad from Aqua Teen Hunger Force, a childish fool whose naïveté occasionally gives way to odd flashes of insight. By combining the epic hero with the cartoon simpleton, Miller creates a character who is at once mythic, absurd, and deeply human. That paradox is what makes Marv unforgettable.

Plot and character moments are also cut or diluted. In the comic, Hartigan’s wife offers to believe he didn’t molest Nancy, even offering support and help when she begins to suspect it is true. Hartigan says nothing, not even to her, because Senator Roark has threatened to kill Nancy if he doesn’t take the fall for Roark Junior’s—aka, the Yellow Bastard's—crimes. This crucial scene is omitted in the film, in favor of a guest-directed scene from Quentin Tarantino, which adds little to The Big Fat Kill, the weakest story in both the early comics and this adaptation.

Dialogue works differently in animation or comics. Cartoonishly erudite henchmen, references to “bum tickers,” and over-the-top noir phrasing feel perfectly natural in a Looney Tunes short or EC comic book story, but can come across as silly or overwrought in live-action. Miller’s dialogue is part of the medium-specific charm.

Visually, the comics’ use of colour is deliberate. Early storylines are entirely black-and-white, and when colour does eventually pop up in later volumes, it serves a specific purpose in what is otherwise a sea of monochrome. For example, in That Yellow Bastard, the titular antagonist is painted yellow to emphasize his grotesque parody of The Yellow Kid, one of the earliest American comic-strip characters, and the yellow pops to inspire revulsion.

While Miller never explicitly frames it as parody, the grotesque transformation of a classic cartoon icon into a child-killing monster prefigures today’s wave of public-domain slashers, from Steamboat Willie: The Mouse Trap (2024) to Popeye: Shiver Me Timbers (2025). By recasting a familiar childhood favorite as a horror figure—and grounding this reimagining in the very medium the Yellow Kid originates from—Miller achieved a resonance that cheap live-action cash-ins on newly public-domain animated characters cannot hope to match. His disciplined use of yellow—and only yellow—to define that character underscores the point with striking precision.

The film, by contrast, spreads colour throughout via selective greenscreens and CGI. It’s a novelty—turning live action into a “cartoon noir”—but it often feels gimmicky and dilutes the impact of Miller’s very specific colour keys. The high-contrast, often line-free shadows on white paper represent career-best work on the part of Frank Miller, and arguably some of the finest black-and-white comic art ever done period.

In short: the comics layer character, humor, and grotesque satire in ways the film flattens. Marv’s childlike intelligence, endearing innocence, and vulnerability are lost. Hartigan’s moral stakes are simplified. Colour and dialogue lose subtlety when translated to live action.