Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths - Part Three

The present phase of the DC animated universe limps to its own, reality collapsing conclusion with Jeff Wamester's Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths - Part Three, a flat finale that is presented to us, almost exclusively, through crowd shots and cameo appearances. Notionally a victory lap for a recent spate of direct-to-streaming releases that have very much failed to capture any past glories, Part Three of this multiverse-spanning saga has to delve deeper into the pre-history of the so-called Tomorrowverse to arrive at any genuine pathos. Before every major character is compelled to willingly have their identity crushed into a gestalt, 'prime' version of their super-persona, Crisis on Infinite Earths visits Earth-12, the home of the heroes who began their adventures with Fox Kids' Batman: The Animated Series and Superman: The Animated Series on Kids' WB before burning out brightly with Justice League and Justice League Unlimited on Cartoon Network. 

This belated appeal to one of the deepest veins of branded nostalgia that the DC animated stable has to offer is (despite any associated cynicism at either end of the exchange) comfortably Crisis on Infinite Earths - Part Three's highlight. Although the dark deco establishing shot used to introduce this brief sequence lacks the pearlescent pow of the original opening title image, the short punch up that follows is, compared to the static posturing that surrounds it, actually quite thrilling. The brawl, between Bruce Timm and Eric Radomski's take on The Joker and The Caped Crusader, beautifully describes how a Clown Prince of Crime might stumble on his feet following some sizable and sustained head trauma. Animated flourishes aside, this clip also contains the late Kevin Conroy's final line reading for his signature role. Hissing through his teeth, the voice actor reaffirms his inextricable connection to the Batman character. It's a performance that spanned multiple decades and creative teams but remained so perfect and singular that Conroy could, if heard at the right time in your life, capture your imagination forever.

Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths - Part Two

How many times have we seen a batarang strike the shoulder of a brawny supervillain? How often do these branded shurikens find their way into the unguarded rear of some advancing threat - who barely even acknowledges they've been pinned - before the device beeps then explodes, stunning the creature in question? Cartoon Network's Justice League and Justice League Unlimited were pulling this stunt (equalising the earthbound heroics of the caped crusader when considering the character on a cosmic level) over twenty years ago; delivering the detonations with far more aplomb too, it has to be said. Significantly less animated than your average motion comic, Jeff Wamester's Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths - Part Two grinds through a middle act for this multiverse-spanning saga, offering up excruciatingly static sequences in which characters sit across from each other and broadcast, monotonously. This straight-to-streaming adventure begins with two such conversations curling around each other from opposite ends of the galaxy. In one corner there's an omniscient being experiencing a glacial emotional awakening; the other a Golden Age master criminal delivers an extended, forensic monologue to a captive audience. The latter, obviously the stronger of the two, reaches for the insistent rhythms of an Alan Moore subject but the staccato situations used to illustrate these ramblings never rise above perfunctory. The real worry throughout Infinite Earths Part Two though is that these desultory chats are leaps and bounds more engaging than the battles with massing shadow monsters that succeed the chinwags. 

Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths - Part One

Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths - Part One concludes, after the credits have staggered their way up-screen, with a dedication to George Pérez, the penciller for the 1980s comic book series that this animated feature is based on. The solemnity of the gesture is rather undercut though by the decision to have this particular inscription break up into the same flaking ash that marks the destruction of this film's doomed, two-dimensional heroes. Quite apparently even the briefest of obituaries, for those whose work is being ruthlessly mined, pales in comparison to the sanctity of the cliff-hanger. The dignity usually extended to those who have passed a mere trifle when judged against the maintenance of a mood calculated to pack people back in for Part Two. Other than this worryingly ill-judged addendum, Crisis Part One is everything we've come to expect from these stale, direct-to-video adventures: a neat central concept that is obscured by circuitous writing and a staging so flat and lifeless that no-one can be left in any doubt that the talent that buoyed DC animation through its golden age has long since migrated elsewhere. As if to underline this point, Part One spends a significant amount of its time centred around The Flash's dealings with Amazo, the power-leeching adversary who previously dismantled television's Justice League in 2003's Tabula Rasa two-parter. The strange elegance of an android shaped like an awards statuette, who fought his opponents by physically reproducing their own powers, is replicated here as a busy-looking robot full of accessory chambers who simply holds out his hand, numbing his already static enemies into a state of sleepy repose. 

Justice Society: World War II

Something of a return to form for the DC animated universe, Justice Society: World War II forgoes caped crusaders and the Man of Steel to place Wonder Woman front-and-centre in an alternative history take on the Second World War. Diana (voiced by Stana Katic, an actress who previous voiced Lois Lane in Superman: Unbound) leads a team of Golden Age, Allied, superheroes, including Omid Abathi's Hawkman; Matthew Mercer's Hourman; Armen Taylor as a period appropriate Flash; Matt Bomer as a time displaced Barry Allen and (best of all) Elysia Rotaru as a lovelorn but scrappy Black Canary. 

This portrayal of an Axis-bashing superteam has its roots in the comics and serials of the time - the Justice Society itself dating back to 1940's All Star Comics issue 3. The film depicts a real war of occupation, complete with war crimes and extrajudicial executions, being fought by bright, four-colour, American personalities. Unlike the comics Justice Society: World War II adapts, this film takes place after the United States has joined the war, an event perhaps expediated by the fall of this universe's Soviet Union. Not to be outdone in the propaganda stakes, the Rome-Berlin alliance have their own Übermensch in the form of a blonde, brainwashed, Aquaman - the King of Atlantis providing a friendly dock for German U-boats on their way to New York. 

Although taking clear cues from 2002's Justice League season finale The Savage Time, Justice Society avoids replicating Bruce Timm's Alex Toth influenced character designs, opting for a less stylised depiction that instead recalls the light, wooden, caricature of a television series like Archer. Figure outlines in Jeff Wamester's film are thick brackets separating handsome character drafts from their background. Similarly, the meat and potato action sequences have a marionette quality to them - a uniformity of figure that suggests a baked character model being twisted and manipulated rather than an individual piece being animated from scratch. Still, a sequence where Wonder Woman beats up a squad of advancing Tiger tanks - with her bare hands - has more heft and pulverising weight to it than the last half-dozen straight-to-video DC adventures. Justice Society succeeds for similar reasons to 2015's Justice League: Gods and Monsters, it tackles a formulaic story from a less formulaic perspective; a light shake-up confident enough to be mistaken for a feature-length pilot episode.